


Like Father, Like Son

by aheadfullofwrackspurts



Series: Like Father, Like Son [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Complete, Gen, Mild Language, Neglect, Physical Abuse, Referenced/implied child abuse, Severitus | Severus Snape is Harry Potter's Parent, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2019-10-05 00:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 67,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17314991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aheadfullofwrackspurts/pseuds/aheadfullofwrackspurts
Summary: An alternative story to the original Harry Potter books we all love in which Harry is sorted into Slytherin. He also makes a shocking discovery about his true parentage whilst living with his abusive relatives. Follows canon events but includes many twists and turns along the way!





	1. Home Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This is the first FanFiction I have written so please be kind!
> 
> This work is edited by my wonderful sister, consultmeforcumberbatch.
> 
> Disclaimer: Though I wish I did, I do not own the Harry Potter books, nor any of the characters used in this work. This is just for fun!
> 
> Slight Trigger Warning: This story will include depictionsof child abuse and so if you are sensitive about these topics, this might not be the fic for you. It is relatively mild to begin with but I will add another warning if things escalate in later chapters.
> 
> Onwards my dears!

Alarmed, Harry was rudely awakened by the sound of thunderous rapping at his door, by none other than his Aunt Petunia.

“Get up! Get up you little brat! We are waiting for breakfast!” She shrieked as Harry rose into a sitting position, gently scrubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Harry struggled to adjust to the surrounding darkness of his cupboard as he fumbled around for his glasses, just managing to find them before falling out of the cupboard and crashing onto the hard wood floor in a disgruntled heap.

Sighing and forcing himself up, Harry entered the kitchen to find his cousin, Dudley, parading around like a rampaging elephant, whilst Harry was dragged into the kitchen and instructed to prepare breakfast.

“Vernon wants eggs and bacon and our lovely Dudder’s wants pancakes, don’t you pumpkin?” Petunia said, sickeningly sweetly as she squeezed Dudley’s chubby cheek affectionately between her thumb and forefinger.

Harry just stood stoically, staring in disbelief before being swatted upside the head and having a frying pan forced into his outstretched arms.

“Yes, Aunt Petunia” Harry replied, silently hoping that, one day, he would manage to wipe the smug expression off of the horse-faced cow.

As though he had been set to auto-pilot, Harry set to work on Dudley’s breakfast first, not wanting to risk getting punished for not presenting ‘Prince Dudley’ with his breakfast in two minutes flat. Being especially careful not to burn them, Harry delicately transferred the perfectly assembled pancakes to a plate and presented them to Dudley. The whale of a boy scrutinising the proffered pancakes before finally deciding that they were edible, and shovelling them down his thick neck.

“Where on earth is my breakfast, boy?!” Uncle Vernon bellowed, startling Harry and almost causing him to drop the piece of bacon he was currently turning.

“It’s coming, Sir” Harry responded through gritted teeth as the toaster popped.

Gently placing two pieces of buttered toast on the dining room table in front of his Uncle, Harry hastily returned to the kitchen for the remaining eggs and bacon. He was methodically placing the contents of the frying pan atop of Vernon’s toast when Dudley barged past him in a desperate attempt to grab the chocolate spread, which was sitting in the centre of the table. Harry’s significantly small stature caused him to stumble a few steps and, as if it were happening in slow motion, spill the remaining oil all over his left hand before sending the frying pan crashing to the floor.

As Harry frantically scrambled to pick up the cookware, he was backhanded across his face by his Uncle. “Stupid boy!” Vernon exclaimed, seething with anger.

He then noticed Vernon’s face, round and red as a tomato, was inches from Harry’s own and his uncle lunged and grabbed Harry by the scruff of the neck, dragging him out into the hallway before forcefully throwing him into his cupboard under the stairs. Harry’s head smacked against the base of the stairs as he did so, the impact causing sunspots to dance across his vision.

“Your foolishness has cost you a day in the cupboard, Freak!” Vernon spat before turning to glare at his wife. “Well, stop gaping at me like a goldfish and get in the car, Petunia! We don’t want to be late to meet my sister or we will all get a bashing!”

Petunia sheepishly trotted out of the front door and into the Dursley’s silver Ford Focus, closely followed by Dudley, before Vernon slammed the door so aggressively that the family portraits on the wall, none of which included Harry, shook precariously. Harry gave an exasperated sigh. He was finally alone.

————————————————————————————————————————

After sitting and staring into the darkness for a few moments, Harry hesitantly prodded the back of his head and wasn’t at all surprised to feel the tackiness of blood that was now matted in his untamed hair. Letting out a heavy sigh, he turned his attention to the broken soldier figures that littered the single slanted shelf in his cupboard. Harry frequently fiddled with them when he was stuck in his cupboard, yet today, they served a different purpose. Choosing one soldier, which brandished a particularly sharp miniature sword, Harry began to fiddle with the lock, twisting the sword just so until he heard that familiar click. Harry suffered through years of failed attempts before he eventually managed to devise a way of escaping the confinement of his cupboard, which happened to be when the Dursley’s took a day trip to the zoo, no more than a year ago. Ever since then, the mere thought of being able to escape if need be, was reassuring enough for Harry to be able to tolerate his time in the compact space

Out of habit, Harry crept silently out of his cupboard, tentatively looking over his shoulder as if expecting to see his uncle to be looming behind him. He then quietly proceeded to the kitchen, where the destruction from breakfast still remained. Carefully, Harry opened the fridge door with his sleeve, ensuring that he didn’t leave any fingerprints, which he was sure wouldn’t go unnoticed by his aunt, and perused the fridge for something to eat. The fridge was stockpiled with an array of tempting treats, including chocolate bars, pastries and desserts. However, Harry knew better than to indulge in these items, knowing that their disappearance would immediately be noticed by Dudley, who kept a sharp eye on all of his confectionary items.

After living with the Dursley’s for so long, Harry noticed that the fruit in the bottom of the fridge often went untouched until the weekly bin collection, when he would see his aunt disgustedly throwing the mouldy fruit into a black sack. He could save the Dursley’s a fortune if they would just let him eat it, Harry mused before reaching for a dark, crimson apple from the bottom of the fridge, deciding that it was the safest thing to take, as the fact that it was missing would likely go unnoticed. Harry then had the first opportunity to inspect his severely burnt hand, the skin sporting an angry red colour and large boils already starting to develop. Again, using his sleeve, Harry decided to grab a bag of frozen peas from the freezer, resting them against his hand for a few moments, in a fruitless attempt to reduce the swelling and the constant burning sensation.

Once Harry had returned the bag of peas to their rightful place in the freezer, he crept up the creaking staircase to explore the rooms that he was never normally allowed to enter. He made his way over to his cousin Dudley’s room first and acknowledged just how much of a state the room was in. The walls were painted a garishly bright red and were adorned with several posters of his favourite football team, Manchester United. As for the floor, Harry couldn’t see it. Nearly every square inch of it was covered with clothing and he dreaded to think what might be lurking underneath the paraphernalia. Dudley’s bed, unsurprisingly, was still unmade, his curtains drawn and his bedside table littered with sweet wrappers. Harry thought it would be best to view Dudley’s room from afar, not venturing any further, as he was likely to fall over the mass of clothes strewn on the floor and never be seen again. He certainly endeavoured to avoid another beating from his uncle if he could help it.

Harry then began to make his way to his Aunt and Uncle’s room, whilst thinking about how tidy and well organised his bedroom would be if he had one. Taking in the room, Harry was surprised to discover that it was reasonably plain and sparse, unlike his aunt and uncle’s colourful personalities. Walking past the couples wardrobe, he jumped out of his skin when he saw himself reflected in the mirror. Harry chuckled and berated himself for being so skittish, yet, he just didn’t recognise the person staring back at him. Despite being relatively short, Harry was incredibly thin, his black hair tangled and out of control. He had dark circles under his sunken, emerald green eyes which luckily were somewhat covered by his large, round spectacles. The Dursley’s were not at all pleased at being forced into buying him glasses when he kept walking into the walls whilst doing the house work. However, he suspected they were just a generic pair as he still couldn’t see a thing out of them. His trousers were constantly falling down, seeing as they were a pair of Dudley’s cast-offs, and his shirt swamped him so much that the hem fell down below his knees.

Turning his nose up at his appearance, Harry spun around and made to exit the room when he noticed a collection of dusty boxes sitting under the bed. Harry was intrigued and, giving in to his curiosity, he dropped to his knees and proceeded to pull out some of the mysterious crates. Each one was conveniently labelled with titles such as ‘Dudley’s baby clothes’, ‘Wedding photos’ and ‘Florida Holiday 1985’. The last heading causing Harry to inwardly shudder as he remembered the week he had spent with his neighbour, Mrs Figg, and her felines instead of basking in the Florida sunshine. He couldn’t really complain though, Mrs Figg had always been kind to him whenever he had stayed with her, at least he got fed properly and had a warm bed to sink into at the end of the day. Thanking his aunt and her organisation skills, the clear labelling saved Harry the unnecessary trouble of digging through each box individually. Then, just as Harry was going to push the boxes back underneath the bed, he couldn’t help but notice a small, unassuming shoebox lurking behind all the others. Harry was interested to see what was inside and, struggling, dragged the shoe box out. The lid was absolutely caked in dust, so much so that Harry had to use the sleeve of his oversized shirt to uncover what was scribbled across the top. A lump appeared in Harry’s throat as he read the title: ‘Lily’s Things’.


	2. Shocking Discoveries

Harry was in a state of shock as he fumbled to remove the lid of the box, anticipating what he may find hiding inside. There was a selection of trinkets including pieces of jewellery, a small teddy bear and some intricately decorated ornaments. He tentatively lifted the items in turn, examining them carefully, before digging to the bottom of the box where he saw a thin stack of photographs, which all contained his departed mother. Harry couldn’t control his emotions as he was finally able to see what his mother had looked like when she was a young girl. She was utterly beautiful. Her delicate features gave her a kind and innocent appearance and her long, fiery red hair curled at the ends, just like Harry’s did. Harry was then taken further aback when he saw her bright green eyes staring straight back at him, which looked exactly like his own. He carefully flicked through the remaining photographs as tears rolled freely down his cheeks, his eyes transfixed on her smiling face whilst she was sitting on a swing set, running along the beach and nimbly climbing trees. Curiously, as Harry continued, he came across a discoloured envelope with the name ‘Severus’ written on the front of it in neat cursive. The letter appeared to be unopened and he frowned at the peculiar name. Tentatively, he opened the envelope and began reading the incredibly cryptic letter.

  _Dear Severus,_

_If you are reading this, I expect that I am no longer here to deliver this message to you personally. I am terribly sorry that I have lied to you, it was for your own protection, you would be at the top of the wanted list if our relationship was ever discovered._

_I fell pregnant during the fall and I panicked. If You-Know-Who ever found out that you had a child with a Muggle-born, such as myself, he would kill you without a second thought and I would never be able to live with myself._

_Hence, I confided in James and he thankfully agreed to go along with the charade in order to protect me and our child and, in turn, claiming that the child was his. I gave birth to our son, Harry, in July, yet regrettably, it was far too risky to make contact with you. He is so gorgeous, Severus, I wish you could see him, his smile is so infectious, I think he would even cause you to crack a smile._

_James and I have discovered that You-Know-Who is searching for a boy born at the end of July and we have gone into hiding in an attempt to conceal Harry. I know that it is only a matter of time before He finds us, but I will do everything in my power to protect our son, even if it causes me to lose my life._

_You have every right to be angry with me, Severus, and I do not blame you for your hatred towards me. You have sacrificed so much for Dumbledore and ‘The Greater Good’ and I knew that it was my turn to sacrifice my own happiness for those I hold most dear._

_If I manage to keep Harry alive, please take care of him for me, Sev. I hope that you can forgive me._

_Love always,_

_Lily xxx_

Harry gave the letter a quizzical look and all these ideas and scenarios started swimming around in his head. Who is You-Know-Who? Why did his parents have to go into hiding? Was James his father after all? Did his parents actually die in a car accident? What kind of names are ‘Severus’ and ‘Dumbledore’ anyway? Surely these had to be code names, like the ones they use on one of Dudley’s favourite survival shows. Chuckling, Harry began to visualise Dudley in the jungle. He would pay good money to see it, he wouldn’t last five minutes.

After sitting and staring at the letter for a few moments, Harry figured that his relatives would arrive home soon, and so he carefully pushed the boxes back under the bed, making sure to return them to their rightful places. Then, tucking the suspicious letter and a photograph of his mother into the waistband of his trousers, he made his way back downstairs, deciding that he would attempt to decode the letter once he was back in the safety of his cupboard.

On his way down the stairs, Harry almost had a heart attack when he heard the postman roughly shoving a handful of letters through the letterbox. Breathing deeply and managing to regain some composure, Harry ignored the stack of mail and headed directly towards his cupboard. However, his curiosity once again got the better of him and he crouched down to inspect the mail. He proceeded to flick through the stack of magazine subscriptions, household bills and junk mail when one particular letter caught his eye. It was addressed to him. Nobody wrote to him. Heck, barely anybody knew he existed, the Dursley’s made sure of that, not wanting his ‘freakishness’ to taint the family name. The sender had addressed him as living in ‘The Cupboard Under the Stairs’ and he concluded that it must be a sick joke, orchestrated by one of his twisted relatives. Opening the envelope just to humour them, Harry continued to read the letter.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Hogwarts Express will be leaving from King’s Cross Station at exactly 11 o’clock, from Platform 9 3/4 on September 1st._

_Please find attached your school supplies list and your train ticket._

_I look forward to welcoming you to Hogwarts in September._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry scoffed at the letter. They really thought he would fall for that? Platform 9 3/4?! It was no secret that the Dursley’s thought he was stupid, but surely they didn’t think he was this dense. With that, Harry’s eyes darted up and he froze in place, his stomach dropping as he heard a key turning the lock of the front door.

————————————————————————————————————————

Harry couldn’t move. Rooted to the spot in fear, the front door swung open to admit the Dursley’s. At first, his uncle did a double take as he trudged into the hallway to see Harry stood, stock still, in front of him, clutching his Hogwarts letter.

“You insolent little swine, going through our mail! How dare you!” Vernon roared as he came barrelling towards Harry.

“Bu-but…this is my letter” Harry stuttered before being smacked across the face with such force that he fell to the ground, clutching his cheek. Harry cowered on the floor as Vernon stormed towards him and picked up the letter. His Uncle read it and his face turned from a bright red hue to purple.

“He knows, Petunia!” Vernon spat before grabbing Harry and slamming him into the wall, his uncle’s face mere centimetres from his own. Harry chanced a glance over his uncle’s shoulder to see his Aunt Petunia sheepishly herding Dudley into the kitchen.

Vernon’s hand suddenly collided with Harry’s face again as he shouted, “You will look at me when I speak to you, boy! Congratulations, boy, you are now fully aware of how much of a freak you and your parents were before they got themselves blown up!”

“What are you talking-“ Harry started before he was rudely interrupted.

“Don’t answer back you little brat!” Uncle Vernon bellowed as he shoved Harry to the floor and began repetitively kicking his stomach with all his might.

Harry thought his uncle was never going to stop. Luckily, the man became distracted when a screech sounded from the kitchen and an owl flew seamlessly through the open window, a letter clasped between its beak. Vernon stormed into the kitchen and wrestled the note from the owl before impatiently shooing it away. His uncle’s eyes darted back and forth across the note before he conveyed a message to Petunia in harsh whispers. Aunt Petunia then trotted out of the kitchen towards Harry and he instinctively flinched.

“Get up, Freak!” his Aunt spat impatiently.

Harry winced and he stumbled as he tried to get in to a standing position before he was marched up the stairs and ushered into the bathroom. Harry glanced around in alarm as he wondered what the hell was going on.

“Get in the shower, I will prepare Dudley’s second bedroom” barked Aunt Petunia.

Bewildered, Harry stared at her and, before he could formulate a response, his aunt slammed the door and left the room. Deciding it was best to obey and not question his aunt and uncle’s motives, he began to strip out of his grimy, blood-stained clothes, remembering to conceal the mysterious letter and photograph beneath them. Harry was relishing the thought of having a shower, he was certainly in need of one.

Stepping into the shower cubicle, Harry welcomed the gentle pitter-patter of the warm water as it soothed his wounds and he momentarily forgot about the pain he was experiencing from his most recent bludgeons. Harry thought better than to keep his aunt waiting and exited the shower as swiftly as possible, whilst also making sure that he was spotlessly clean so that his aunt had no further reason to berate him.

Once he was clean and showered, Harry concealed the letter and photograph beneath his towel before cautiously peeking around the bathroom door in search for his aunt. She had neglected to leave any clean clothes outside the bathroom door as she usually did whenever he was permitted to take a shower.

“Hurry up, Freak!” Harry hears her shout from down the hall and, after making sure every square inch of himself was covered with the towel, Harry trudged along the hallway to meet his aunt outside of Dudley’s second bedroom.

“Now, you will get changed into these pyjamas and get straight into bed” Aunt Petunia said firmly, waving the night clothes in front of his face. “I expect you to be up at six and we leave at ten”.

Harry narrowed his eyes, it was only lunchtime, why on Earth was he being sent to bed at this hour? Surely they wouldn’t let him relax for the whole day, it had never been known.

“What?” Harry replied without thinking, covering his mouth in shock at his outburst.

His aunt looked utterly disgusted but restrained from lashing out, “To take you to that freak school!” she spat disdainfully.

“Now I have either been hit too hard upside the head or I’m dream-“ Harry started before being smacked across the face.

Raising his hand to his cheek, Harry’s eyes watered at the sudden impact and his cheek burned. Whilst Harry was recovering, his aunt stormed from the room, slamming the door as she went. Quickly, Harry shoved his clean pyjamas on, as if they may disappear if he left them lying on the bed for too long, and jumped into bed and splayed out, relishing the feeling of being in comfy bed with a mattress. It was much more comfortable than the pallet he had to sleep on it his cupboard.

As Harry lay there, the morning’s events started swirling through his head. Harry had absolutely no idea what the Dursley’s were playing at and didn’t know what to believe. However, the mere thought of finally being rid of the Dursley’s was riveting, the morning just couldn’t come quick enough. It didn’t take long for Harry to drift of to sleep as he sunk into the mattress, the blankets enveloping him and sending him into a peaceful slumber.


	3. Blondes and Redheads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All! 
> 
> Here are Chapters three and four, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> As always, this work is edited by my lovely sister consultmeforcumberbatch.

The morning finally arrived and Harry was relieved when he could finally get out of bed. At quarter to six, Harry leapt up and dressed in the clothes that were set out for him, an oversized pair of formal trousers and a dress shirt, which he tucked into his trousers along with his letter and photograph. He then proceeded to make the bed, being as neat and tidy as possible to ensure that the room looked as though it hadn’t been inhabited. He then silently made his way along the hall and, being careful not to wake Dudley, made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen where his aunt stood cleaning the countertops.

“Good morning, Aunt Petunia.” Harry said politely as he entered the kitchen, not wanting to let anything spoil his unusually cheerful mood.

The woman reluctantly turned around, only to gasp when she looked up at Harry.

“What, what is it?” Harry asked worriedly, looking down at himself as his aunt grabbed his wrist and dragged him back upstairs and into the bathroom.

It just so happens that a fist sized bruise was now decorating the left side of his face and eye. So, Aunt Petunia was running around like a headless chicken, gathering up some peculiar looking items. At first, Harry actually thought that she was going to apply some antiseptic cream, but he should have known that was too good to be true. Instead, she was haphazardly spreading makeup all over his face in a meagre attempt to cover up the bruise.

After bring subjected to his aunt’s ‘facial’ and being sent off with a reusable Tesco bag full of cosmetics for him to reapply when the bruise started to show through, they were finally on their way to the train station. Harry and his uncle, Vernon, were travelling in an uncomfortable sustained silence when at last, they reached the station. 

“Out of the car then! There’s your ticket you little brat!” he spat, causing Harry to jump out of his skin before the man forcefully shoved the ticket into Harry’s hand. 

“The Old Fool said to go to compartment thirteen. Uniform and school things are waiting there,” his uncle stated before angrily slamming the car door and careening away from the train station at breakneck speed.

Infinitely glad that he was no longer in the presence of his uncle, Harry navigated his way through the station in an attempt to find this mysterious platform. He couldn’t help but think that this was still some sort of sick joke and that his relatives had set him up. It was ten-thirty, the train was due to leave at exactly eleven o’clock. If he didn’t hurry, the train would leave without him and his one chance of freedom would be shattered. 

Harry awkwardly lingered between platforms nine and ten in the hope of catching a glimpse of someone who may be attempting to board the Hogwarts Express. Just as he resigned to give up, he saw a peculiar group of red-headed boys running flat out across the platform, carefully weaving in and out of the morning commuters. The boys were sprinting straight towards a brick wall between the two platforms and, just when Harry thought the boys were going to collide full force with the wall, they disappeared into thin air.

Blinking his eyes rapidly, Harry tried to comprehend what on Earth had just happened and, once the boys had gone through, Harry hesitantly approached the wall to test his ridiculous theory. Trying not to raise suspicion, he casually leant back against the brick wall, which consequently vanished from behind him, sending him falling through the wall and landing on his backside. Looking around sheepishly and in mild shock, Harry quickly moved out of the way of the brick wall, just in case somebody else decided to come hurtling through at that exact moment. He then shuffled around the corner and was completely awestruck at the sight before him. A monumental, crimson steam train accented with gold inlay stood stationary at the platform, a cloud of smoke billowing out of its chimney. The platform was full of children and parents alike, who were talking animatedly and ushering their children onto the train. It was now quarter to eleven and so Harry approached a strange looking man, whom was opening one of the trains many doors and admitting children onto the locomotive. 

“Excuse me, Sir,” Harry said politely, turning the mans attention from the mass of people milling around on the platform. “Am I in the right place?” Harry asked nervously, holding out his ticket for the man to inspect.

“You are indeed, my son!” the man replied jovially, opening the door and allowing Harry to climb aboard.

Making his way through the carriages as quickly as possible, Harry frantically searched for his assigned compartment, figuring that he would be a lot more relaxed once he had found where he was supposed to be. Thankfully, it didn’t take him too long at all to find compartment thirteen and he slid the door open and stepped inside. Immediately, Harry was glad that there was a large window that he could mindlessly stare out of during the journey. He didn’t like feeling enclosed, especially as he didn’t know what to expect, having never been on a train before. He then directed his attention to the luggage racks hanging above the seats, searching for the uniform and supplies that, according to his uncle, the ‘Old Fool’ had promised were waiting for him. There was a single, burgundy trunk sitting alone on the rack with his initials, ‘HJP’, embossed in gold at either end. Standing on the seat, he reached up and opened the lid of the trunk, revealing his school uniform and a few other school supplies. After extracting the pile of clothes, Harry drew the blinds, covering all of the windows and hastily got changed into his new uniform. He certainly didn’t want to chance having to change with someone else in the compartment with him, Harry didn’t think that his scars and bruises would be a particularly pleasant conversation starter. 

Once he was changed, Harry put his clothes away and lifted the blinds whilst starting to question the schools strange attire. He was wearing the standard black formal trousers, white button down shirt and black school tie, embroidered with the schools crest, yet, he was also sporting sturdy black robes which were so long they trailed along the floor behind him. Everything else hung off of him, his trousers and shirt sleeves having to be rolled up multiple times. Harry had just slumped into his seat when the train set off.

Just when Harry thought he was going to be alone for the entirety of the journey, a tall, lanky boy whose hair was so blonde it was almost white, slid open the compartment door, dragging his trunk. Instinctively Harry rushed forward to help the boy with his luggage.

“What the hell are you doing?!” The boy asked suspiciously, glaring at him through narrowed eyes.

“Uh… h-helping you with your case.” Harry replied nervously. 

“I can do it myself!” The boy barked impatiently, attempting to shove it onto the luggage rack above.

Harry sheepishly stood back, hoping he hadn’t done anything wrong. He then waited a few minutes and, seeing the boy still struggling, rolled his eyes and continued to help the stubborn student.

"Thanks,” the boy said reluctantly once the trunk seemed secure.

“No problem” replied Harry nonchalantly as he settled back into his seat.

He was very unsure of what to do next. The boy sitting opposite him seemed very unapproachable. Nevertheless, Harry wanted to make a friend and so he decided to introduce himself. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry broke the silence, “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Harry” he said extending his arm and offering a handshake.

“Hello, Harry,” the boy replied politely, grasping Harry’s hand rather tightly, “I’m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”

Harry was slightly taken aback by the boys strange name but he didn’t think it would be wise to comment, given the blondes unpredictable manner.

Feeling stupid, Harry continued, “Sorry, I should have given you my last name,” he said anxiously, “I’m Harry Potter” He added.

With that, Draco sat bolt upright, staring at Harry, mouth open like a catfish sucking the walls of a fish tank.

“What?” Harry asked, completely flummoxed, looking behind him as if expecting to see a monster looming.

“No way, you can’t be Harry Potter! Have you really got a lightning shaped scar on your forehead?” Draco asked eagerly, leaning forward slightly.

“How do you know about my scar?” Harry asked, incredulous, cautiously lifting his fringe to show Draco.

“Whoa!” Draco gasped, astounded, “What do you mean how do I know? Everybody knows who you are, Potter, you’re famous!”

“Famous? And please, call me Harry,”

“Merlin, you haven’t been told anything have you? I heard you have been living with Muggles for all these years but I still thought you would know you were famous. Fine, call me Draco then,”

“What the hell are muggles? And why am I famous?!” Harry pushed.

“I’m not sure I should be the one to tell you that, Harry. Muggles are people who don’t have magical abilities.” Draco replied simply. 

“Magical abilities? I don’t have magical abilities!” Harry insisted.

“Well of course you do! You wouldn’t be sitting on this train if you didn’t!” Draco exclaimed, seeming to be a lot more talkative now that Harry was supposedly famous.

Harry didn’t care though, he was just glad that someone actually wanted to talk to him, or be anywhere near him in fact.

“I must be dreaming or something, this can’t be real.” Harry declared after a period of silence, when Draco leant forward and pinched Harry’s arm.

“Hey! What was that for?!” asked Harry indignantly, rubbing his arm.

“Well I think you can safely say you aren’t dreaming, Harry” Draco replied smirking and Harry sniggered.

For the rest of the journey, the two boys continued chatting about magic and the crazy things that both of them had managed to do accidentally. Much to Harry’s dismay, Draco didn’t elaborate on why he was famous. Harry hated not having a clue what was happening and he was just going to bombard Draco with another load of questions when the train came to a halt at the station, Draco excitedly dragging Harry off of the train and onto the platform.


	4. The Silent Sorting

Hogwarts was simply magnificent. Talking excitedly about their boat ride across the lake, Harry and Draco were ushered along the corridor by a particularly stern looking witch. Her face was drawn with a pointed chin, her hair scraped into a tight bun and a petite pair of spectacles resting on the end of her prominent nose. The witch was certainly old and Harry thought she must have been at Hogwarts for longer than he had been alive… and then some. Harry, along with the other first years, were standing nervously in front of towering double doors whilst the witch lectured them on the ‘Sorting Ceremony’ and the beginning of term feast. Harry hardly heard a word of the witch’s explanation, he was far too nervous to understand what she was saying and was intently focusing on not throwing up. He absolutely hated large crowds and loud noises.

A short while later, the doors swung open to reveal a vast, ornately decorated hall with four extremely long, wooden benches which traveled the length of the room. Harry looked up as he and the rest of the first years walked through the middle of the hall to see that there appeared to be no ceiling. Instead, he was staring at what seemed to be the night sky, stars twinkling above him. 

The group suddenly came to a halt in front of what must have been the head table, which had several witches and wizards sitting behind it, including a wizard with an extremely long white beard. which almost came down to the mans knees. Harry assumed he was the Headmaster, seeing as he was resting in the centre of the table in an elaborate gold-plated chair. Maybe that was the ‘Old Fool’ his Uncle had mentioned? Harry’s attention soon drifted back to the stern looking witch as she began to read students names out from a list before guiding them to sit on a rickety stool in front of the school. A strange looking hat was then placed on the students head, which apparently determined which house they would be in during their time at school. This school seemed to have some very strange customs. 

Harry’s ears then pricked up as he heard the witch shout, “Draco Malfoy!”

Draco made his way confidently up to the front before casually flopping down onto the stool. The hat had barely graced the blonde’s head when it immediately bellowed, ‘Slytherin!’ 

Harry offered Draco a slight smile as the boy made his way over to the group of cheering students sitting over at the far table. 

Harry was quickly dragged out of his thoughts when the witch called his name.The room falling completely silent, and Harry struggled to swallow past the lump that had risen in the back of his throat. Carefully making his way through the rest of the first years waiting to be sorted, Harry glanced over at Draco, who in turn gave him a reassuring nod. A few of the students whispered to each other as he perched nervously on the edge of the stool as the tattered hat was lowered onto his head. Harry nearly jumped a foot in the air when the hat started talking and muttering to itself, trying to decide where to place him. Panic was rising in his stomach and he was fretting that the hat wouldn’t sort him and he would have to return to the Dursley’s. Struggling to regain his composure, everyone in the hall started to look worriedly at each other when eventually, after what felt like a lifetime of deliberation, the hat called out, “Slytherin!”

Once again the room fell deathly silent, apart from a few gasps which sounded from around the room. Nobody clapped as Harry started to make his way over to the Slytherin table, at least not until the Headmaster himself initiated the applause, causing the rest of the school join him. Draco beamed at him and promptly high-fived Harry as he took his seat with the rest of the Slytherin students.

Several minutes later, the Sorting Ceremony had concluded and the Headmaster welcomed the new students to Hogwarts, giving a brief speech before the feast began. Harry was shocked when endless amounts of food suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He had never seen so much food in his life, and that was saying something after seeing the Dursley’s dining room table on Christmas Day. Harry was overwhelmed, and he just didn’t know where to start. Certainly not wanting to appear greedy, Harry placed a few slices of roast chicken, a handful roast potatoes and some vegetables onto his plate before adding a light drizzle of gravy. He started to nibble on his food when an older Slytherin student introduced himself.

“Hello, Harry. I’m Marcus Flint,” The boy said, offering his hand to Harry, “I’m one of the Slytherin Prefects, it’s great to meet you. If you have any questions or need any help, don’t be afraid to ask.”

“Nice to meet you, Marcus,” Harry replied shaking his hand politely, “and thank you. Everything is still very new to me,” Harry admitted.

“Not a problem, Harry. We were all first years once,” Marcus replied, smirking at him. 

Harry responded with a slight smile before turning around and looking back at the food that he was chasing around his plate. He was starving but he didn’t want to appear too desperate, and so Harry decided to distract himself. Taking in his wonderful surroundings, his eyes wandered to the Head table and he noticed a rather menacing looking wizard with slick, greasy, shoulder length black hair and a crooked nose. The imposing man was glaring right at him, a stoic expression written across his sullen face. Harry offered the frightening man a tentative smile but was given no more than an intense glare in response.

Averting his gaze, Harry learnt across the table and whispered, “Marcus, who is that man that keeps staring at me?”

“Ah, that’s Professor Snape, he is our Head of House. He appears quite intimidating but you will be glad to know that he favours those in Slytherin house,” Marcus replied reassuringly.

“Thank goodness for that,” Harry responded before swallowing a mouthful of roast potato, “I do wish he would stop staring at me though.”

Marcus sniggered, “Well, I can’t say I blame him, he isn’t the only one that is surprised to see you sorted into Slytherin house.”

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see other members of staff whispering to each other and peering over at him, before meeting his eyes and looking away sheepishly. Professor Snape still stared at him regardless.

“Why is everyone so shocked?” asked Harry innocently.

“Everyone had placed their bets that you would be in Gryffindor. Both of your parents were Gryffindors were they not?”

“Oh right, yeah, sure.” Harry murmured, a little disheartened that he hadn’t been sorted into the same house as either of his parents.

Dinner continued and, after Harry had devoured a hefty slice of treacle tart, the Headmaster rose from his seat and raised his hand for silence. His voice was more resonant than Harry had expected, yet, he still sounded very kind and sincere when he addressed the students.

“I hope you all enjoyed the feast and are looking forward to the start of another year at Hogwarts. Please make your way to your dormitories, first-years, please remain seated.”

Harry shifted anxiously in his seat waiting for the older students to depart. The Slytherin table felt rather empty once it was just Harry and the nine other first-years sitting around it. Once everybody else had finally left the Great Hall, the Headmaster introduced himself as Professor Dumbledore, and explained the school rules with a particular emphasis on the forest and the third floor corridor being, in his words, ‘strictly forbidden’. Harry was curious as to why he had to avoid these locations but he didn’t want to find out. It would only land him in trouble and send him packing and back to the Dursley’s. Professor Dumbledore concluded by instructing each Head of House to escort the students to their dormitories and he bid them all good night. 

Sweeping effortlessly over to the table, Professor Snape droned, “Follow me, and no dawdling.” 

The students almost had to run in order to keep up with the Professor, who was taking long strides through the corridor, a tangle of black robes billowing out behind him. Harry and Draco were exchanging concerned looks as he led the group down into the dungeons. Stopping abruptly, the group came face to face with a detailed statue of a snake, which appeared to be moving and guarding the door. Professor Snape quickly spun around and addressed them.

“This is the entrance to the Slytherin common room. The statue requires a password before it will allow you to enter. Do not give out this password to anyone who is not in Slytherin house, or indeed, be the insufferable oaf whom notes down the password and inevitably loses it. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Professor Snape,” Harry and the rest of the students mumbled in unison.

“Good. Now, the password for this term is ‘Asphodel’. Remember it or it will only result in you having to display your stupidity as you linger, waiting for someone who is kind enough to let you in. Understood?” Snape asked, scrutinising them.

The rest of the students nodded, and Harry stuttered, “Yes, Sir” whilst staring up at his Professor nervously.

With a flourish, Professor Snape impatiently uttered the password causing the statue to move aside. The Professor then waltzed into the common room and waited for the rest of the students to follow suit. 

As the Slytherin common room was in the dungeons, Harry half expected it to be a dank chamber that reeked of mildew, yet, that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. The room was circular and featured intricately carved stone pillars, which were situated around the circumference of the room. Everything in the room, down to the furniture and decorations, was accented in the Slytherin house colours, green and silver, and featured a fireplace with a marble surround, the unorthodox emerald flames flickering. However, the most impressive element of the space had to be the windows. As they were underground, they had a wondrous view of what lurked beneath the surface of the Black Lake. An array of interesting and magnificent looking creatures drifting past from time to time. 

“The boys dormitories are through the door on the left, whilst the girls are though the door on the right. Conveniently, your belongings will have already been taken down for you,” Professor Snape declared tiredly.

Harry couldn’t help but smile to himself as the man rattled off a very well rehearsed speech, which he guessed he had spoken every year when there was yet another new wave of confused students. Dragging himself out of his thoughts, Harry listened as Professor Snape continued.

“Slytherin house is your family whilst here at Hogwarts, therefore, we all look out for each other. Breakfast commences at six in the morning and your first class begins at nine. I will be in the Great Hall tomorrow morning in order to assign each of you your timetables for this academic year. Should you require anything, my office is located at the end of the corridor, though if you disturb me during the night, I expect the situation to be a matter of life or death. Goodnight,” the Professor deadpanned before abruptly whisking around and marching out of the room without another word.

Looking around, Harry, along with the rest of the group, were utterly bewildered as they made their way to their respective dormitories. Harry and the rest of the boys split up from the four girls and made their way down to the first-year dormitory. 

Upon entering the dormitory, Harry’s attention was instantly drawn to the sea-green coloured walls, which featured moving images of bubbles and sea creatures, seemingly  continuing the underwater theme from the common room. 

After studying the walls, Harry suddenly noticed that the rest of the boys were getting changed into their pyjamas, and so he hurried over to his four poster bed, which already had his trunk sitting at its foot. Harry felt relieved when he realised that his bed was located at the far end of the room, granting him more privacy when changing and, in turn, allowing him to be concealed from the prying eyes of his dorm mates. He was also delighted to see that Draco’s bed was situated next to his own, which made him feel a little more at ease with the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Harry was very grateful that he at last had his own comfortable bed, yet he wasn’t used to sharing his personal space. Whilst the cupboard under the stairs was extremely compact, he hadn’t needed to share it with anyone else. Quickly changing into his green and silver pinstriped pyjamas, Harry climbed into bed and, despite being in a foreign place, easily settled down and fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.


	5. Friends and Fireplaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Back with another instalment for you all, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> As always this work is edited by the lovely consultmeforcumberbatch.
> 
> Also, I have a Tumblr account under the same name. Come and say hi!

Harry gasped, sitting bolt upright as he awoke to Draco shaking him vigorously.

“Wake up, Harry, it’s eight o’clock, we have to move!” His friend shouted.

Cursing, Harry flailed around for his glasses, leapt out of bed and grabbed his uniform before running into the bathroom. He didn’t really have enough time for a shower, so instead, he just quickly threw on his uniform, promptly realising that his tie had now been replaced with one sporting green and silver stripes and his robe emblazoned with the Slytherin house crest. Harry decided that he had better quickly wash his face and attempt to wet his hair down before he faced Professor Snape upstairs.

“Crap!” Harry muttered to himself as he looked in the mirror above the basin.

He had completely forgotten about his bruise, and so he hastily ran back into the dormitory, attempting to cover his face as he retrieved the cosmetics his Aunt Petunia had given him. Thankfully, everyone else in his dorm room, including Draco, had already made their way down to breakfast and so he avoided any awkward encounters. Harry had no idea how to actually apply the makeup and so he gingerly dipped his finger into the bottle and started spreading it haphazardly across his face until the bruise was adequately covered. He shoved the Tesco bag back into his trunk when he noticed some new things had appeared there including a house jumper and scarf, a selection of feather quills, rolls of parchment and a plain, black backpack. Shoving a quill and some parchment into his bag, Harry rushed out of the door and headed for the Great Hall.

————————————————————————————————————————

Sprinting out of the common room and rounding the corner to the Great Hall, Harry almost collided with Professor Snape and he came to an abrupt halt.

“Ah, finally decided to join us have you, Potter? You may be accustomed to bending the rules at home, but you will not do so here,” the Professor spat as he waved Harry’s timetable in front of him before continuing, “Thankfully, Mr Potter, you will not be attending your first lesson this morning, Professor Dumbledore has requested to see you in his office immediately. I will escort you there now.”

Gesturing for Harry to follow him, Snape swept down the hall casually whilst Harry’s heart was beating out of his chest. Had he done something wrong? He had only just arrived, surely he hadn’t messed everything up already. Harry tried to summon every ounce of courage he had to ask Professor Snape why the headmaster had requested to see him, yet unfortunately, they had arrived at their destination before he was given the chance. They both stood stoically in front of a highly detailed stone statue, and Harry wasn’t entirely sure what it was supposed to be. Apart from the creature having wings, it certainly didn’t resemble any type of bird that he had encountered before.

Harry jumped when his Professor spat out what must have been the password for entry and he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. The figure began rotating in a circular motion and a stone, spiral staircase rose steadily out of the ground before them.

“Off you go then, Potter” Professor Snape ordered, staring at him and lingering in the corridor to ensure that he went up the staircase to the Headmaster’s office.

Reaching the top of the spiral staircase, Harry knocked lightly on the simple wooden door and patiently awaited a response.

“Come in.” The Headmaster announced, and Harry took a deep breath and pushed the door open, walking into the room and gently closing the door behind him.

Surprisingly, the Headmaster's office was relatively compact. Similar to the Slytherin common room, the room was circular in shape, yet the walls were covered in bookshelves that were crammed full with books and other strange looking knick-knacks. Harry’s eyes then gravitated to the floor which featured a deep red, beautifully woven rug which led a path to the Headmaster’s desk. Both the desk and chair were a rich mahogany, inlaid with gold, and a small pile of books and a single quill rested on the table top.

Desperately trying not to shake, Harry extended his hand out towards the Headmaster and politely said, “Good morning, Professor Dumbledore. It’s nice to meet you,” this greeting had been drilled into him back at the Dursley’s.

Professor Dumbledore, looking slightly taken aback by his politeness, took Harry’s hand in his own and shook it gently.

“Good morning, Harry. It is lovely to make your acquaintance. Please sit down, my boy,” the elderly man said, gesturing towards a chair in front of his desk.

Harry perched on the edge of the chair, trying not to appear too comfortable, and looked up at the Headmaster expectantly.

“Now, Harry, I am sure you are wondering why I have summoned you here this morning. No need to worry!” Dumbledore added, somehow managing to sense his building anxiety. “I merely wanted to have a chat with you about your transition into the Magical World and answer any questions you may have. Is that okay with you?”

Harry sighed with relief, nodded his head and replied, “Yes, Sir."

“Good. So…is there anything you wish to discuss with me? Anything that you are desperate to know?” Dumbledore enquired, clasping his hands together and resting them on his lap.

Harry pretended to think for a moment, but really, he knew exactly what he wanted to ask. “Um, why am I famous, Sir?” Harry questioned, shyly.

Dumbledore appeared shocked, “Harry, my boy, have your Aunt and Uncle not told you any of this?”

Harry shook his head, “No, Sir, my relatives refuse to talk about magic and my heritage. Actually, I only found out that I was a wizard forty-eight hours ago, I received my Hogwarts letter the day before the Hogwarts Express was due to leave.”

“Why did you receive your letter so late?” Dumbledore asked, looking confused.

“I don’t know, Sir” Harry replied honestly.

“Hmm, very well. I shall make us some tea, this may take a while,” the Headmaster stated, waving his wand to summon a tea tray and a selection of biscuits.

————————————————————————————————————————

It was almost time for his third lesson of the day by the time Harry finally made it out of the Headmaster’s office. However, he was immensely grateful to have been given answers to all of his burning questions and, more importantly, being reassured that he was allowed to stay. Harry couldn’t comprehend what Dumbledore had told him about this evil wizard, Voldemort, and his parents. Apparently, his mothers sacrifice caused Voldemort to fall and allowed him to survive, which left him feeling confused, angry and upset. Why did Voldemort want to kill him and his parents in the first place? He couldn’t help but feel responsible for his parents deaths and his mind wandered back to the letter he had found back at the Dursley’s. If the letter held any truth, then maybe James wasn’t his father at all. If he wasn’t, that would just make Harry feel even more guilty.

During his meeting with Dumbledore, the Headmaster had also taken him to purchase his first wand as he never had the opportunity to acquire one before school. Harry was utterly dumbfounded when he realised they would be travelling to the wand shop through the fireplace. At first he thought the Headmaster was joking. Who knew wizards could travel using a fireplace? It was the strangest sensation and it made Harry feel rather dizzy and unsettled. However, the feeling passed off quickly and he managed to avoid falling over. Both he and the Headmaster were in the shop for a long while whilst Harry cluelessly waved wands about before finding one that, in the shop-keepers words, ‘answered to him’.Both Dumbledore and the shop-keeper, Ollivander, were shocked at his assigned wand and stared at him, mouths agape for what seemed like an age. Then, when Harry had asked for an explanation, the pair weren’t very forthcoming and their answers were very cryptic. According to Ollivander, it was terribly ironic that he was destined for his particular wand when it shared the same core as a notable dark wizard. Harry hoped that didn’t mean that they expected him to be evil. He decided not to dwell on it too much, he had too many other things to worry about other than what people thought of his wand.

To make things even worse, Harry’s next class, ‘Transfiguration’, started in five minutes and he had absolutely no idea where he was going and he was wandering around aimlessly. Harry was beginning to panic when he saw a glimpse of Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Prefect, at the end of the corridor.

“Marcus!” Harry shouted, running to catch up to him.

Marcus turned to face Harry and smirked, “Hi, Harry, what’s up?”

“I have Transfiguration next, and I don’t have a clue where I’m going” Harry panted, trying desperately to catch his breath.

“Okay, Harry, I’ll show you where to go. Let's see your timetable” Marcus said, extending his hand for Harry’s timetable, “Third floor, classroom 34.” he read aloud, “Come on, follow me before you’re late.” Marcus replied, guiding him down a sequence of moving staircases and endless corridors.

————————————————————————————————————————

To Harry’s relief, he arrived to the lesson just as the rest of the students were filing into the classroom. He shuffled in with the rest of the class before collapsing into a seat next to Draco.

“Harry!” Draco exclaimed, making Harry jump, “Where the hell have you been? I asked Snape where you were and he told me you were being ‘dealt with’ and I thought you were a goner!” The boy said, looking surprised that Harry was still in one piece.

“Relax, Draco, I’m fine! I will explain at lunch, okay?” Harry whispered in response.

Draco offered him a nod before they turned their attention towards the front of the classroom, where a familiar stern witch was standing. Her firm expression still remained as she lectured the students.

“Good morning, class. Welcome to your first Transfiguration lesson, I am Professor McGonagall. For those of you who are unaware, the art of Transfiguration involves transforming one object into another, or indeed, altering the appearance of an object. Today we will be discussing the theory of the ‘Beetle buttons’ spell before practicing the required wand movements. I trust you have all brought your textbooks, so please turn to page twelve.”

Harry’s heart sank. He had been in such a rush this morning, he didn’t even think to rifle through his trunk and look for his textbooks.

Harry panicked and whispered to Draco, “I left my textbook in my trunk, she’s going to kill me!”

“Chill, Harry, you can just share mine.” Draco replied, pushing the textbook across to the middle of the table so that they could both see.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before Professor McGonagall’s prying eyes noticed.

“Where is your textbook, Mr Potter?” McGonagall asked brusquely.

“I-I’m sorry, Miss, I was asked to report to Professor Dumbledore’s office this morning and so I didn’t have time to go back to the dormitory to get my book before the lesson started.” Harry replied anxiously, looking down and twiddling his thumbs as he waited for an answer.

“Very well, I will let you off with a warning this time, Mr Potter. However, I will indeed be checking that you were with the Headmaster this morning. Try to be more organised next time and remember your textbook for our next lesson.”

Sighing in relief, Harry replied, “Yes I will, Professor, thank you,” before offering the witch a small smile which she returned before continuing with the lesson.

It turns out Harry’s attempts at using a quill were abysmal. He really couldn’t get the hang of it. Hadn’t any of them ever heard of the ballpoint pen? Harry tried his best to make the writing in his exercise book legible and made a note to himself to practice writing with a quill a bit more before his next lesson to avoid further embarrassment.

Once the lesson had finished, Harry accompanied Draco to the Great Hall for lunch whilst they moaned about the homework they had just received from McGonagall. He was starving, having missed breakfast, and didn’t hesitate to grab a cheese and pickle sandwich and tuck in whilst Draco questioned him.

“So, Harry, give me the gossip. Why were you told to see Professor Dumbledore?”

Harry explained to Draco all about his meeting with the Headmaster and his trip to Ollivander’s, although he conveniently left out the dubious nature of his new wand.

“Cool,” Draco replied, “I’m glad you weren’t in trouble. I’m sorry about your parents though, Harry. At least you know why you are famous now though, I guess.” the boy added tentatively. 

“Yeah, I suppose” Harry murmured, suddenly acting as though the table was extremely fascinating.


	6. The Groundskeeper's Garden

Harry was glad to discover, after closely inspecting his timetable, that he had two free study periods and his first flying lesson before dinner. He was very excited at the prospect of being able to fly on a broomstick. It was the stuff of dreams. 

Draco and the rest of the Slytherin first-years were gravitating towards the library to work on McGonagall’s essay, yet, Harry decided to use the time to explore the castle and see where his upcoming lessons will be held. Safely leaving his rucksack with Draco, Harry set off on his quest. 

He started his exploration by finding the Charms classroom, seeing as he had missed their lesson that morning. The door of the classroom was left slightly ajar and so Harry shyly peeked inside to see if the room was occupied. Draco had told Harry about their Charms teacher, Professor Flitwick, and so he recognised the man sat behind the desk straight away. Professor Flitwick was a very small wizard, so small that he had to sit on a tall pile of books whilst working to reach the desk top. Seeing that the Professor wasn’t teaching, Harry lightly rapped on the door.

“Yes, come in,” sounded from the other side of the door and Harry slid through the door and shuffled up to his teachers desk.

“Hello, Professor Flitwick” Harry greeted, once again holding out his hand to initiate a handshake,“I’m Harry Potter, Sir. I’m sorry I missed your lesson this morning, I had a meeting with Professor Dumbledore. Is there anything I need to catch up on before our next class, Sir?”

“Of course you are. I am delighted to meet you, Mr Potter,” replied the Professor, grasping his hand, “Before your next lesson, I would like you to read the theory of the wand-lighting charm, ‘Lumos’, which you will find on page five of your textbook. Also, I am sorry to say that I did set homework. One side of parchment on producing the ‘Lumos’ charm and in what situations it could be used. Are you able to borrow one of your classmates notes, Mr Potter?”

“Sure, I will have the notes and essay ready for next lesson, Sir” Harry clarified.

“Very good, Mr Potter. Let me know if there is anything else you need,” Harry just turned around to leave when he was called back over, "Ah, hold on a second, here is your Charms exercise book.” He said, offering it to Harry.

“Thank you, Sir, I look forward to our next lesson.”

“Wonderful, see you then,” Professor Flitwick said as he waved Harry off.

————————————————————————————————————————

After his encounter with Professor Flitwick, Harry successfully managed to locate all of the classrooms for his upcoming lessons, including the Herbology Greenhouses which were situated in the castle grounds. Taking the opportunity to explore the grounds more thoroughly before meeting Draco back in the library, Harry gazed in awe and what vaguely resembled a football pitch. It was a vast green area with spectators stands towering several feet above it. There were also three interesting looking golden hoops, which were grouped together, sitting at either end of the pitch. He had no idea what it was used for but he was eager to find out and would make a point of asking Draco. Glancing around, Harry noticed a quaint cobblestone cottage in the distance which resided at the bottom of the hill. Making his way down to take a closer look, he grinned as he took in the magnificent vegetable patch, overflowing with bright, bulbous pumpkins the size of barrels. After spending some time inspecting the interesting garden, which was infinitely more interesting than the Dursley’s, Harry supposed that he should probably get back to the library. As he turned to journey back up the hill towards the castle, Harry ran into something, or rather, someone.

Screaming, Harry fell over onto his backside in pure shock as he found himself staring up at an extremely tall, rotund man whom was dressed in a worn walnut-brown overcoat and mud-caked mountain boots.The strange mans hair was a long, tangled mass of brown curls which were so long they blended into his beard which covered almost the entirety of his face. With that, the mysterious man bent towards him and Harry flinched, belatedly realising that the man was merely offering him a hand up. 

“Sorry bout that,” the man said, helping Harry back onto his feet, “Din mean to startle yeh. Name’s Rubeus Hagrid, Gamekeeper of Hogwarts.”

“Oh,” Harry replied, in awe of the mans large stature, “Hi there, it’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry if I was being nosy, your garden is magnificent. I’m Harry, Harry Potter.”

“Are yeh really? Mind you, yer a lot bigger now then when I last saw yeh,” Hagrid admitted, looking Harry up and down.

“What do you mean? questioned Harry. “Have we met before?”

“Course, stupid fer me to think you’d remember, yeh were only a tiny baby when I dropped yeh off to yeh relatives.” Hagrid replied solemnly.

“Hold on a second. You dropped me off at the Dursley’s? Did you know my par-“

However, just before Harry could finish his question, the bell rang out to signal the end of afternoon break.

“Damn, I better go. I have my first flying lesson next,” Harry said apologetically.

“Not ter worry, Arry, you can come and see me anytime.”

“Thank you, see you later!” Harry called, waving enthusiastically as he sprinted up the hill towards the castle.

————————————————————————————————————————

Draco was looking around apprehensively when Harry arrived at the library and the boy seemed relieved when he saw Harry rushing in to meet him. The pair then excitedly made their way out into the courtyard for their first flying lesson. 

For his first time, Harry felt as though he did fairly well. Seeing as he had managed to successfully summon his broom, hover and fly a few feet above the ground without falling off. Nevertheless, their lesson came to an abrupt end as a Gryffindor boy, Neville, fell off of his broom and had to be taken to the Hospital Wing. Harry couldn’t help but feel sorry for the boy, you could tell that he didn’t want to be anywhere near a broom in the first place.

Then, after enjoying a dinner of lamb hotpot alongside thick slices of warm, crusty bread, the Slytherin and Ravenclaw first years made their way to the Astronomy Tower for their first Astronomy lesson. Harry was fascinated by the various constellations he was able to find and identify and was somewhat disappointed when Professor Sinistra told them all that it was the end of the lesson. Not that Harry wasn’t relieved, he was certainly exhausted after a long, stressful day and he couldn’t wait to change into his pyjamas and fall into bed. 

Upon returning to the dormitory, Harry hung up his backpack, grabbed his pyjamas and went off to have a quick shower, remembering to take his cosmetics with him after his slip up that morning. Once he was showered, Harry fished through his trunk and took out all of his text books and stacked them in a pile on his bedside table along with his wand. He came across the letter and photograph he had found whilst at Privet Drive and safely tucked it into his backpack, along with his Herbology, History of Magic and Potions texts needed for tomorrows lessons. Then, once he had said a quick ‘Goodnight’ to Draco and the rest of his dorm mates, Harry removed his glasses, flopped into bed, and slowly drifted off to sleep. 

————————————————————————————————————————

The room was void of light and the darkness became oppressive as it started to close in on Harry, whom was rocking back and forth with his knees tucked up tightly against his chest. There was a thunderous pounding on the door before it flung open to admit a huge hand, searching around in the darkness for him. Grabbing Harry’s foot, the hand dragged him out of the compact room when, all of a sudden, there was a blinding flash of green light accompanied by a woman’s agonising screams.

Harry sat bolt upright, heart racing and body trembling. He peered over at Draco though the pitch black room, and was glad to see him still sleeping soundly, reassuring Harry that he hadn’t cried out. Fumbling around for his glasses he put them on and sighed in despair. There was no way he would be able to fall asleep again, not after the nightmare he had just experienced. With that, Harry decided to read some of his textbooks for something to do. He would have completed his homework but he didn’t want to risk getting ink all over his bedsheets, which was likely, given his disastrous attempts at using a quill. Instead, Harry crept over to retrieve his backpack, laid it on the bed and gathered his Potions and Herbology texts. As he was about to settle down and read, it occurred to Harry that there was no electricity in the castle. How was he going to be able to read in complete darkness? It then dawned on him that Professor Flitwick had mentioned the wand lighting charm ‘Lumos’.

Carefully trying to navigate his way through the darkness, Harry reached his bedside table, collecting every book he could feel and gathered them up. With around five books cradled in his arms, he crept over to the bathroom door and, being extremely cautious not to drop one of the books, he felt his way along the wall to the bathroom door. Harry managed to open it just enough to squeeze through so that the light emanating from the bathroom didn’t wake his peers. 

Luckily, the oil lamps in the adjacent bathroom seemed to burn constantly and so he was finally able to see clearly, blinking frantically as his eyes adjusted to the light. Harry figured that if push came to shove, he could just read in the bathroom, though it wasn’t a very pleasant place to sit and read, especially if one of the other boys came in and found him crouched suspiciously in the corner with a textbook. Hastily, he rummaged through the stack of books until he found his Charms textbook before turning to page five and reading the incantation for the wand-lighting charm.

After studying the theory for a while, Harry really wanted to try it and was grateful that he had remembered to tuck his wand into the waistband of his pyjamas. Although, Harry became disheartened when he tried to cast the spell several times to no avail. Just before he gave up, he read a line in the textbook which read, 

‘It is imperative to have complete focus and concentration when attempting any spell, specifically focusing on what you desire your wand to perform’. 

Harry closed his eyes, concentrating as hard as he possibly could on achieving light and muttered ‘Lumos’. Opening his eyes, he was delighted when the end of his wand was alight and he double checked his handiwork by covering his wand underneath his pyjama top. Then, looking up the wand-extinguishing charm, Harry whispered ‘Nox’ and was amazed when the light immediately snuffed out.

Once Harry had practised the spell several times and was consistently successful, he gathered up his textbooks and crept out of the bathroom into the dormitory. Somehow, he managed to get back to his bed safely and sat on it as silently as possible, yet it still made a rather loud creak. Harry held his breath, waiting to see if anyone stirred but he heard nothing. Then, to prevent the light of his wand from waking anybody, Harry tentatively pulled the luxurious, deep green drapes around his bed. 

When he became settled, Harry whispered ‘Lumos’ and his wand illuminated the space and a wide grin spread across his face. He peered out of the curtains to glance at the clock on his bedside table which read two-thirty and Harry sighed. There were still hours to go before breakfast and so he settled back with his Potions textbook and began to read. Harry was especially interested in the bizarre ingredients, including Wolfsbane, Lacewing Flies and Flobberworm mucus as well as the section relating to potions that changed a persons physical state, such Fever-reducing potions and Sleeping Draughts. Soaking in the fascinating text, Harry couldn’t wait for his first Potions lesson.


	7. A New Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Apologies that this next instalment is slightly late, it has been a busy week!
> 
> As always, special thanks to my editor extraordinaire: consultmeforcumberbatch.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Time passed painfully slowly and Harry was glad when his clock finally read six o’clock, meaning he could get up and head to the Great Hall for breakfast. He carefully cleared away his textbooks, making sure that he had all of the correct books for the days lessons safely stored in his backpack. Then, after making his bed, Harry grabbed his uniform and cosmetics before taking care of his morning ablutions.

When Harry made his way back to the dormitory, none of the other boys were even stirring. He didn’t want to wake Draco this early and so he quietly left the dormitories and made his own way to breakfast.

Harry relished how empty the Great Hall was at this time of the morning, apart from a handful of older students and teachers, there weren’t many people here at all. As Harry made his way across the hall, sitting in his usual spot at the Slytherin table, he noticed a petite girl with layers of bushy brown curls sitting alone at the end of the Gryffindor table. Harry recognised her from his Transfiguration class and he thought she looked particularly troubled and lonely. With this in mind, Harry grabbed himself two pieces of buttered toast and a goblet of pumpkin juice before hesitantly approaching the girl.

“Hello,” Harry said and the girl jumped about a foot in the air, spinning around and glaring at him suspiciously.

When she didn’t reply Harry continued sensitively, “Are you okay? Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“Uh, sure,” the Gryffindor girl said, looking mildly dubious, “Of course.”

Harry took a seat opposite her so that he could talk to her without making her feel awkward. He had no idea why she was acting so strangely around him, he wasn’t exactly frightening, far from it in fact. Then again, he had no idea what sort of nonsense the rest of the school was spouting about him. Chancing a glance up at the girl, Harry noticed that she had prominent dark circles under her eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you by the way. I’m Harry” he said politely.

“Hello, Harry. Of course, I know who you are. I’m Hermione Granger” she replied.

“Oh yeah, sorry. I forget that everybody knows me.” he said nonchalantly, taking a bite out of his toast. “I’m not used to it, being raised by Muggles and all.”

“You were raised by Muggles?” Hermione asked in stunned surprise. “I thought that you would have been raised by a Wizarding family.”

“Nope, I grew up in Surrey with my Aunt and Uncle. I had no clue that I was a wizard until I received my Hogwarts letter. The day before the train left for school in fact.” Harry said, chuckling.

“Me too! Although, I received my letter at the beginning of August so I had plenty of time to adjust, visiting Diagon Alley and reading up on the ‘Wizarding World’.” Hermione explained, beaming.

“Oh yeah, Professor Dumbledore took me there to get my wand yesterday. It was really cool but I didn’t get to go anywhere other than Ollivander’s.”

“Oh, right.” Hermione replied. “Hopefully you will be able to visit again during the Christmas break and have a decent browse. I love the book shop, Flourish and Blott’s. I could get lost in there for hours!”

“Yeah, hopefully I will see it soon,” Harry muttered, feeling disheartened.

He doubted it would ever happen. Especially seeing as he planned on remaining here at Hogwarts instead of going back to the Dursley’s over the festive period. Even if he did return, his relatives wouldn’t allow him to leave the house, let alone visit Diagon Alley, a wizarding street. There was a slight lull in the conversation when Hermione yawned.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” Harry questioned, despite already knowing the answer.

“No, I didn’t. I was up most of the night studying the ‘Lumos’ charm for Professor Flitwick in the Gryffindor common room. I really wanted to understand it as much as possible before our next lesson. It’s really daunting when you haven’t had a lot of experience in the Magical World, I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of everyone else.” Hermione admitted shyly.

Harry cursed himself, why didn’t he think of reading in the common room?! That would have saved him the trouble of worriedly tiptoeing around at two in the morning.

“I understand what you mean. I definitely have standards to meet being the ‘Boy Who Lived’ and all. I didn’t sleep a wink either, I was reading my textbooks too.” Harry replied, taking a swig of his pumpkin juice, “I can try and help you with the ‘Lumos’ charm though if you like? Have you attempted to cast it yet?”

“Really, you would do that?” Hermione queried with a shocked expression.

“Of course! Why is that so surprising?” Harry asked quizzically.

“I…I just heard that Slytherins don’t tend to help Gryffindors, apparently there is an age old rivalry between the two houses.”

“Oh,” Harry responded, feeling a little hurt, “Well, I don’t care about petty rivalries. I will offer help to anyone who needs it.” He said dryly.

“Me neither, rivalries are ridiculous! I think we would be good friends,” Hermione uttered, smiling at him shyly.

“Of course!” Harry said grinning back at her, hoping that he had been successful at making a new friend.

“But to answer your question, yes. I have tried to cast it several times but I just can’t do it. Have you managed it yet?”

“Yeah, last night,” Harry responded, “It took me several attempts though. Do you have your wand with you? I can show you how I did it if you like?” Harry offered.

Both he and Hermione remained sitting there for just short of half an hour, practicing and reciting the wand movements for the charm. He explained to Hermione that you had to really focus on what you wanted to achieve and with that piece of advice, the tip of her wand lit up. Harry was pleasantly surprised that he had been able to teach Hermione so easily, and she beamed at him before she started panicking. 

“Oh no, Harry! How do I extinguish it?!” she asked, frantically flicking through the pages of the textbook.

“It’s okay, don’t panic!” Harry reassured her, “Just say ‘Nox’ and it will go out. It is far easier to extinguish the end of your wand than to light it.” He assured her. 

Hermione muttered “Nox” and was delighted when the light at the tip of her wand immediately went out. 

“Thank you so much, Harry. You are a life saver!” She exclaimed, after practicing the spell several times.

“No problem, Hermione. I’m glad I could help! Listen, I was planning to go to the library after dinner, to work on the essay for Flitwick. Do you want to come?” Harry asked timidly, hoping against hope that she would want to spend time with him.

“That’s really kind of you. I have written a draft of the essay but I need to write it up again, my handwriting is atrocious, I just can’t get used to using a quill,” Hermione complained, shuffling her pieces of parchment and textbooks into a pile.“I could also add any important bits we discuss in too,” She added hastily.

“I know what you mean about the quill, I’m glad I’m not the only one struggling!” Harry laughed. “Okay, great. Just come and find me in the library after dinner then.” With that, Harry saw Draco entering the Great Hall, “Anyway, I’m going to go and see my friend Draco before Herbology. See you later!”

“See you later, Harry. Thanks again!” she replied, smiling at him as he retreated.

Harry was so pleased that he had made another new friend. Never having had any friends before, it was refreshing for Harry that people actually wanted to be around him, unlike in primary school, where Dudley would constantly spread lies about him and threaten anyone who even attempted to be friends with him. 

After spending the rest of the morning laughing around with Draco, the pair made their way to Herbology. Harry struggled to stay focused throughout the class as the stifling heat made him unbelievably sleepy. However, he managed to get through the lesson with the Hufflepuff’s without any incidents, and he and Draco were especially glad that Professor Sprout didn’t set them any homework. Their workload was increasing rapidly enough without their Herbology Professor adding to it. He was immensely relieved when he remembered that he had a free period before lunch and, although he knew he should be completing his homework, he was too exhausted after being awake for most of the night. Hence, Harry went down to the dormitory for a nap, politely asking Draco to wake him when it was lunchtime. 

Too soon, Harry awoke to Draco gently shaking his shoulder to alert him that it was time for lunch. Even though he hadn’t slept for very long at all, he felt a lot better after his brief nap and even more so once he was in the Great Hall with Draco, delving into a bowl of chicken noodle soup. Remembering they had Potions next, Harry was running out of the Great Hall dragging Draco along behind him, happily anticipating what their first Potions lesson would entail.

Unfortunately, Harry’s excitement was short lived and his heart sank and fell out of his arse when he heard the infamous drawl of Professor Snape’s voice as the man strode menacingly into the classroom. Harry felt as though he had been brutally kicked in the stomach. He couldn’t believe that the one lesson he was particularly looking forward to was being taught by his Head of House, who in turn seemed to openly loathe him. 

As Snape was preparing for the lesson, Harry glanced around and noticed Hermione sitting at a table with a few other Gryffindors, including Neville, whose wrist was still tightly bandaged, and a freckly, red-haired boy whom Harry recognised from the station. Hermione met his gaze, and Harry grinned as she returned the smile, the red-haired boy nudging and whispering to her all the while. His attention was then suddenly drawn to the man at the front of the class.

“Quiet!” Professor Snape bellowed, sneering at Harry and the rest of the students, “The art of Potions requires diligence, therefore, in this class you will not-“.

Harry tuned out at that point, as Snape droned on and on about rules and threatening them that revoking them would result in extreme consequences. He was staring into space when Snape roared.

“Are you listening, Mr Potter!”

Harry instantly jumped out of his daze to see Professor Snape glaring at him threateningly before he continued.

“It appears that Mr Potter feels that he is too entitled as the 'Boy Who Lived’ to listen to my instructions. Do you claim to already know everything about Potions to aimlessly stare into space?!” His Professor barked, the mans face mere inches from his own, he was so close that he could feel the mans warm breath on his face, which reeked of coffee.

“No, Sir.” Harry replied as confidently as he could, trying with all his might not to flinch and lean back on his stool.

“As you seem to be so disinterested, Potter, I must assume that you know the potion I would produce if I added powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?” Snape spat, not taking his eyes off of Harry for a second.

Harry felt all of the moisture leave his mouth. He knew this, he had read it in his textbook last night, but what in God’s name was it called?

“Uh, is it, um…” Harry stuttered.

“Spit it out, Potter! You either know it or you do not!”

“I-it makes a powerful sleeping potion doesn’t it, Sir? The Draught of Living Death?” Harry asked tentatively.

The rest of the class was silent and Harry relished in glee when Professor Snape’s mouth briefly fell open as he looked at Harry, utterly dumbfounded. He obviously hadn’t expected him to know the answer to the question, however, Harry didn’t expect to hear what came out of Snape’s mouth next.

“Detention, Mr Potter, for your bigheadedness!” His Professor snarled.

Harry was positively livid. Why should he get a detention for answering a question correctly?! He was about to throw back a retort when Draco kicked him under the table and gave him a look of warning.

“Yes, Sir.” Harry replied through gritted teeth.

Professor Snape then proceeded to lecture the class on the different types of cauldrons and their properties. Harry was trying his best to concentrate, despite the fact that he was seething. Also, he was finding it increasingly difficult to cope with the blistering heat of the room and he was beginning to sweat profusely, frequently mopping his brow with the sleeve of his robe. Working through the immense heat, Harry was glad when the end of the lesson approached.

“For next lesson, I expect a twelve inch essay on the various types of cauldrons, how they are determined and their uses.” Snape instructed. “Class dismissed. Stay behind, Potter,” the Professor uttered, staring down at Harry in undisguised disgust. 

Harry frustratedly shoved his books back into his bag and remained standing behind his desk whilst Snape ushered the rest of the students out of the classroom. The Professor then swooped past Harry and stood imposingly in front of his desk.

“Come here, Mr Potter.” Snape said, gesturing for Harry to come forward.

Harry couldn’t breathe. What was Snape going to do? Did they still use corporeal punishment here? He didn’t want to be hit having received enough unsuspecting blows from his deranged uncle. Anxiously, Harry approached Snape, his head down, trying not to aggravate the man any further.

“Look at me, Potter” Snape spat impatiently.

Harry lifted his head up and glared at his Professor. Snape reached his hand out to Harry’s face and he instinctively flinched as Professor Snape brushed his thumb underneath Harry’s eye.

“Care to explain yourself, Potter?” Snape spat, holding his thumb up in front of Harry which was now caked in foundation.

“Oh. I uh, I ran into a lamppost the day before the Hogwarts Express left for school, Sir. I didn’t want anyone to make fun of me, Professor.” Harry replied solemnly, looking at his feet as if they were especially interesting. “My Aunt and Uncle were ashamed of my stupidity and so they told me to cover it up.” Harry added, trying to placate Snape by putting himself down, which seemed to work rather well.

“Hmm.” Snape replied, digesting what Harry had just said “Go and wash your face, Potter, then come straight back.” The man ordered.

Rushing out of the classroom as quickly as possible, Harry ran along the corridor to the boys lavatory. He hastily splashed water on his face, exposing the yellow-purplish bruise beneath, and made his way back to the Potions classroom as swiftly as possible. 

Professor Snape was stood waiting exactly where he had left him, holding a suspicious looking jar in his left hand. The Professor opened the jar, applied a jelly-like substance to his finger and leant towards Harry and, surprisingly gently, dabbed the bruise with his finger. Harry couldn’t help but flinch again at the contact.

“Stop flinching, Potter!” His Professor snapped angrily.

“Sorry, Sir. It’s just cold” Harry muttered, making up an excuse.

The Professor methodically spread the substance over his eye, occasionally sweeping back Harry’s fringe that kept unhelpfully falling in the way. Once he had finished, Snape stared silently at him for a moment before shoving a handheld mirror into Harry’s hand. Peering into the mirror, Harry saw that his bruise had completely disappeared.

“Thank you, Sir.” Harry said, beaming up at his snarky Professor. 

“Your detention will take place on Thursday evening at six o’clock. Do not be late, Potter.” Snape replied, without even acknowledging Harry’s thanks.

“Yes, Sir.” Harry responded before retreating, making his way out of the classroom to his next lesson.

What had that been all about? Harry mused. Why had Snape, of all people, decided to help him? Harry concluded that the Potions Master must have something up his sleeve and would probably make his detention on Thursday an absolute misery.

————————————————————————————————————————

His first History of Magic lesson was painstakingly dull. Harry spent the whole time listening to Professor Binns, who happened to be a ghost, witter on about the Wizarding Revolt of 1832. He desperately tried not to gouge his eyes out from sheer boredom and, after what felt like an eternity, the lesson was finally over. Both him and Draco then headed to dinner before Harry set off to meet Hermione in the library.

He was surprised to see that Hermione was already there when he ventured into the expansive library and she waved at him enthusiastically when he approached. 

“Hi, Harry. Are you okay?” Hermione asked looking concerned.

“Yeah, fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Harry replied smiling.

“Well, Professor Snape was really mean to you. I was livid when he gave you that detention. You knew the answer to his question!” Hermione said, he voice rising, resulting in a warning glare from the librarian, Madam Pince.

Harry chuckled. “Calm down, Hermione, I’m fine. Snape doesn’t bother me. Anyway, I better get started on my essay.”

With that, Harry and Hermione worked quietly up until curfew when Madam Pince practically forced them out of library. Harry was pleased that he had managed to complete his essays for both Charms and Transfiguration, leaving only his Potions essay to complete another time. 

After bidding Hermione goodnight, he made his way back to his dormitory, thankful that he was finally going to be able to rest and wouldn’t have to worry about covering up his bruise any longer. Then, just as Harry walked in to the dormitory, he found himself face to face with Blaise Zabini. A well groomed, dark-skinned boy, who seemed to value his appearance and reputation above all else.

“At least someone in this school has got the measure of you, Potter” Blaise spat distastefully.

“Excuse me?” Harry replied, utterly perplexed.

“Professor Snape is the only one who sees you for what you are, Potter. An attention seeking brat who thinks he is above everyone else.” The boy sneered.

Harry was just about to tell Zabini where he could stick his opinions when Draco stepped in.

“Shut it, Zabini!” Draco shouted, catching the cocky boy off guard, “Stick your nose someplace else, unless you want my father to hear about it of course?” Draco added threateningly.

That seemed to do the trick. Zabini silenced immediately, a look of horror on his face.

“Didn’t think so.” Draco spat as he lead Harry over to the other side of the room.

“Just ignore him, Harry.” Draco said in a more relaxed tone. “He isn’t worth the time of day.” 

“Why did he seem so scared when you mentioned your dad?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“Well, my father is high up in the Ministry of Magic, sort of like the Muggle Government.” He added when he saw Harry’s confused look. “Let’s just say that he can be rather frightening and persuasive when he wants to be.” Draco replied winking at Harry.

Harry smirked and, after changing into his pyjamas, said goodnight to Draco and tucked himself in under the blankets. It took Harry a little longer to get to sleep that night, anger brewing inside him as he thought about what  Zabini had said.


	8. Broken Resolves

The rest of Harry’s week went relatively smoothly and he somehow managed to survive his detention with Snape. Even if it did involve writing ‘I will not show off’ more times than he could count. 

The weekend had finally arrived, giving Harry and Draco some more time to become well acquainted. The boys were both ecstatic as they excitedly rushed down to the Quidditch pitch that morning. Madam Hooch had organised an optional, additional broomstick practice session and they were both equally eager to soar around on their brooms for a while.

Harry and Draco were both enjoying themselves, playfully chasing each other and throwing the Quaffle between them and they were both disappointed when Madam Hooch sounded her whistle and beckoned them all to the ground. At that moment, Harry heard a high-pitched screech. Spinning around, he saw one of the Hufflepuff first years struggling to keep her pet toad from jumping out of her pocket. She kept one trembling hand clutched to her broom as she became increasingly unsteady and she lost her balance, the toad leaping out of her hand and making a swift descent. Without giving it a second thought, Harry raced over as quickly as possible, diving towards the ground to catch up to the flailing toad. Luckily, he managed to catch the amphibian just before it collided with the ground. Draco then joined him on the pitch, giving him an encouraging pat on the back for his efforts, as Madam Hooch stormed towards them.

“Mr Potter!” She exclaimed. “What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?!”

“Well I couldn’t just let the toad fall to its death, Miss. It was just instinct, I’m sorry,” Harry replied, feeling a bit downtrodden. So much for doing a good deed.

“You could have seriously injured yourself, Mr Potter, ten points from Slytherin for your foolishness.” She said sternly before Draco butted in.

“What?! Harry saved the damn toad! He wouldn’t have needed to do anything if you’d bothered to cast a cushioning charm or something!” He spat disgustedly.

“An additional twenty points from Slytherin for your cheek, Mr Malfoy!” Hooch shot back.

“You-“ Draco started before he was abruptly cut off when Harry elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Yes, Miss,” they both replied shyly before they traipsed away in silence. 

Carefully handing the toad back to the Hufflepuff girl, unintentionally flinching violently as she hugged him tightly for saving her familiar. The pair were then moseying up the hill when they heard someone shouting their names. They quickly spun around to see Marcus Flint, frantically running towards them.

“That was some amazing flying, Harry! I can’t believe Madam Hooch punished you for that, the old bat!” He proclaimed, furrowing his brows in disgust, “Have you ever thought about playing Quidditch?” Marcus asked.

Harry was slightly taken aback, he didn’t have the faintest idea of what the game actually entailed. He only knew the obvious which was that the game was played on broomsticks.

“Well, to be honest I don’t really know much about it.” Harry replied honestly, looking sheepish.

“I will talk you through it all. So, would you be interested?” Marcus nagged.

“Yeah, it sounds like it would be good fun.” Harry said smiling, unsure as to whether Marcus would have accepted no for an answer anyway.

“Alright, I’m going to go and ask Professor Snape if you can try out for the team next week. I will let you know what he says.” The older boy stated and without another word, he sprinted up the hill and out of sight.

“Well, that was weird.” Harry voiced aloud.

“Harry, you don’t understand!” Draco said excitedly. “First-years aren’t allowed to try-out for the Quidditch team. Marcus must think you have real talent to face the wrath of Snape and ask if you can try-out!”

“Well, I think Marcus is going to need more than luck to sway Snape. Merlin help him!” Harry said, both boys chuckling as they trudged back up to the castle.

After the events of the morning, Harry decided to venture off to the library and complete his Potions essay for their upcoming lesson on Tuesday. It took him over two hours but he had finally managed to complete it. He was just placing the borrowed books back on the library shelf when someone tapped him on the shoulder, Harry hastily spun around as if anticipating an assault.

“Great news, Harry. Snape said you can try out for the team!” Marcus said enthusiastically.

Harry was absolutely gobsmacked. Snape hated him with a passion, surely he hadn’t given him permission to join the Slytherin team.

“What?! How the hell did you get Snape to agree to that?!” Harry asked in surprise.

“Well, it took a lot of persuasion but Snape is desperate to win the Quidditch Cup this year, and so after badgering him several times today, he reluctantly agreed. Try-outs are at seven pm on Tuesday. See you then!” Marcus said before proudly strolling his way out of the library.

————————————————————————————————————————

The rest of the weekend dragged and Harry was bursting with excitement when Tuesday finally arrived. After wolfing down his dinner, Harry ran down to the Quidditch pitch to meet Marcus, who kindly explained the rules of Quidditch before try-outs began. Harry was extremely nervous as he was going for the position of Seeker against an older student. The boy in question was as wide as he was tall and looked as though he could easily knock Harry over with his pinky finger. 

Unexpectedly, try-outs went exceptionally well and, after catching the Snitch three times before his opponent, Harry was assigned as Seeker for Slytherin house. He and Draco were ecstatic and Harry enjoyed the cheers that sounded from the rest of the Slytherin team.

Harry was utterly exhausted and it was approaching curfew by the time the members of the team had been finalised. Telling Draco to carry on up to the castle with the rest of the Slytherin team, Harry carefully placed his borrowed school broom safely back in the store cupboard. Then, upon exiting the cupboard, he came face to face with Zabini who was smirking menacingly.

“Bet you loved all of the attention didn’t you, Potter. Self-centred people like you just can’t get enough can they?” He spat maliciously.

“Shove off, Zabini!” Harry retorted angrily before ignoring the infuriating boy and storming off towards the castle.

Zabini followed him the whole way back, constantly yelling snide remarks at him whilst Harry tried to remain unfazed. He had just walked past the Great Hall when Zabini caught up to him, whisking him around and grabbing his collar in his fist.

“Maybe you would have been taught some manners, Potter. That is, if your useless, good-for-nothing parents didn’t go and get themselves blown up! You’re too much of a coward to even stand up for yourself.” Zabini spat as he forcefully shoved Harry to the floor.

That was the straw that broke the camels back, so to speak. Harry was livid, his emotions took over and before he could stop himself, he whirled around and punched Zabini squarely on the nose, putting all of his strength behind the punch. Zabini was in a heap on the floor, clutching his bleeding nose, when Harry knelt on top of him and screamed in his face.

“DON’T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT MY PARENTS IN THAT WAY EVER AGAIN, YOU EVIL SON OF A BITCH!”

Harry didn’t get the chance to spout any more insults as he felt strong arms sharply pulling him away from Zabini. Chancing a look up, Harry came face to face with Snape glaring down at him in utter disgust. The Professor abruptly instructed a Prefect to escort the bleeding Zabini to the Hospital Wing whilst Harry tried desperately to escape the Professors iron grip. He was scared senseless of what might be in store for him and was desperate to get away, but the man was simply too strong. Harry was kicking and flailing about, frantically trying to worm his way out of his Professors grasp as he dragged him though the corridor, past an audience of curious onlookers and down into his office. 

Slamming the door shut and locking it behind them, Snape just stared at him as Harry paced restlessly up and down the room, still seething. Harry was well and truly screwed now and he clenched his fists until his knuckles were white. After a while, his Professor finally decided to break the silence.

“Care to explain why you were assaulting a student in the middle of the corridor, Potter?”

“No.” Harry spat angrily, avoiding the mans gaze.

“Enough with your cheek, Potter! Now, Let me rephrase that. What could have possibly provoked you to strike another student?!” Snape demanded, raising his voice.

Harry was quiet for a few moments, taking a few deep, shuddering breaths before he had the courage to answer.

“He’s been taunting me all week, Sir. It started with stupid comments but then he insulted my parents, Sir. I lost control.” Harry murmured sheepishly. 

“I don’t care what he said, Potter. I do not tolerate physical violence between students! You will endeavour to not lose control or you may well find yourself out of Hogwarts before the end of your first year. You will apologise to Mister Zabini tomorrow and you will serve detention with me every evening next week from six until nine. Is that understood, Potter?”

Harry bit back a hateful comment that was resting on his tongue, not wanting to dig himself into an ever deeper hole and, instead, nodded his head in compliance.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Now, I expect you to follow our house rules and not pick fights with your peers. However, tomorrow morning I will be splitting your dormitory into two separate rooms, one which will house Mister Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle whilst the other will house Mister Nott, Malfoy and yourself to avoid any other incidents. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Professor Snape.” Harry answered, secretly relieved that he no longer had to share his dormitory with the ignorant toe rag.

“Now, get out of my sight!” Snape spat as he threw the door open, causing Harry to rush out of the room, putting as much distance between himself and Professor Snape as possible. 

————————————————————————————————————————

It was past curfew when Harry finally made his way back to the dormitory. Zabini was still in the Hospital Wing and the rest of his dorm mates were sound asleep, apart from Draco, who was propped up on his bed idly fiddling with his bed clothes.

“Where’ve you been?” Asked Draco, shortly. “It’s past curfew.”

“Yeah I know, Draco. Listen I don’t really want to talk about it right now, I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?” He replied tiredly, not wanting to discuss his altercation with Zabini before settling down to sleep.

Without another word, Harry grabbed his pyjamas and stormed out of the room to the adjoining bathroom and in to one of the shower cubicles, impatiently drawing the curtain behind him. 

Everything that Harry had done instantly hit him like a speeding train and he curled up in the corner of the cubicle, defensively bringing his knees to his chest and sobbed. He felt terrible for lashing out at Zabini, despite him being such a horrible prat. Harry of all people understood the effects of physical violence and he suddenly wondered if he was slowly turning into his monster of an uncle, which made him feel sick to his stomach. Also, the added threat of having to leave Hogwarts played on his mind and he knew he would do anything to avoid it. 

After pruning up from being in the shower door so long, Harry made his way back into the dormitory. He was relieved that Draco was sleeping soundly, it meant that he had several blissful hours before he needed to explain himself. It took Harry longer than usual for sleep to claim him, the lingering thoughts of his Uncle Vernon plaguing his mind.


	9. A Strange Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All! Here is another instalment, I hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> Thank you to all of you who have given kudos and bookmarked my story. I honestly didn't think anyone would read it!
> 
> As always this story is edited by the Fred to my George: consultmeforcumberbatch.
> 
> Onwards my dears!
> 
> P.S. Snape will come around soon enough, I just don't think he is the type to become a teddy bear immediately!

It was the beginning of October, and Autumn was now in full swing. There was a slight chill in the air and rich red and orange leaves littered Hogwarts’ grounds. Harry decided to take an early morning walk to clear his head when he noticed Hagrid tending to his pumpkins. As he walked towards the vegetable patch, Hagrid looked up at him and grinned.

“Ello, ‘Arry!” Hagrid said, jovially. “Are yeh alright? Yeh look a bit pale.”

The truth was, Harry hadn’t been sleeping well, as his nights were being plagued by unrelenting nightmares.

Not wanting to tell Hagrid and dampen the mood, Harry replied. “Hi, Hagrid! Yeah I’m fine, just fancied a morning walk. What are you up to?”

“Ah right. I’m just seein ter me pumpkins, with ‘Alloween approachin I got ter get em ready for decorating the Great ‘All.”

“Cool!” Harry said excitedly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Surprisingly, Hagrid took him up on the offer and let Harry assist him by watering the pumpkins and planting some new crops. Having been forced to do the gardening for the Dursley’s from a young age, Harry knew a lot when it came to gardening. It was one of the chores he didn’t actually mind doing and found himself looking forward to over the less pleasant jobs. Cleaning the bathroom after his uncle had a bath and a shave was particularly grim. 

After an hour or so, they were both finished and Hagrid invited Harry into his cottage for tea. Hagrid’s home was a lot larger on the inside than Harry had expected it to be. It was incredibly cosy with a roaring fireplace and a monstrously large round table, which was adorned with chairs that were so large Harry’s legs dangled over the edge. The half-giant lowered himself into a chair across from Harry, bringing with him a steaming pot of tea and some homemade rock cakes. Instantly, Harry regretted taking one as he nearly broke his tooth when he bit into it they were so hard. The silence stretched on which unnerved Harry, so he started to make polite conversation.

“Hagrid?” He asked hesitantly.“You know you said that you dropped me off at the Dursley’s…did you know my parents?”

The half-giant looked slightly taken aback by the question and couldn’t meet Harry’s eyes. Harry noticed that Hagrid’s eyes had taken a glassy appearance and were welling up with tears. 

“Aye, I didn’t know em that well mind yeh, I was gamekeeper when they was ‘ere. I knew yeh Mam more than yeh Dad, she used to pay me a visit from time ter time.” Hagrid reminisced, sniffling intermittently. 

Harry was tearful at this point too, Hagrid's sniffling having started him off. Harry didn’t quite know what to say and so instead, he reached out and took Hagrid’s massive hand in his own. Hagrid offered him a small smile in response.

“Lily wer lovely, ‘Arry. Yeh remind me so much of ‘er. She always offer’d to ‘elp like yeh.” Hagrid sputtered through this tears.

Taking a deep breath, Harry asked Hagrid a question that had been playing on his mind ever since he found out about his parents real cause of death.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Hagrid, when did my parents die? Dumbledore told me what happened but he never mentioned when.”

“Spose it’s only natural that yeh want ter know more. They died on thirty-first of October nineteen-eighty.” Hagrid replied, not so subtly wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“O-On Halloween?” Harry asked through his tears.

Hagrid nodded and began to sob uncontrollably into his hands. Harry couldn’t stand seeing the half-giant so upset and so he shuffled over to Hagrid on the other side of the table, and took his hands in his own. Uncovering the his face, Harry let his friends hands fall limply to his sides before cautiously leaning forwards to hug Hagrid, resting his head against his chest. Hagrid returned the comfort by enveloping Harry in his sturdy arms.

————————————————————————————————————————

Quidditch practice was scheduled for that afternoon but he didn’t feel up to going after his heart-to-heart with Hagrid. Certain that Marcus would kill him if he failed to turn up, Harry trudged along to the changing rooms sulkily.

After enduring an endless and tiring practice, Harry was making his way from the Quidditch changing rooms towards the castle when he bumped into a rather panicked looking Hermione. She looked unusually dishevelled as her robes fell off of her shoulders and one knee-high sock rested down near her ankle. 

“Hi, Harry.” Hermione said hastily, her eyes darting suspiciously around the grounds.

“What is it, Hermione? You seem a bit…jumpy” Harry stated, looking his friend up and down worriedly.

“I am. I need to talk to you but I can’t here in front of everyone.” She replied, shuffling nervously and glancing over her shoulder shiftily.

“Okay, follow me. I have an idea.” Harry insisted, towing Hermione back down the hill with him.

Hurrying back towards the Quidditch pitch, clutching Hermione’s arm, Harry looked left and right before lifting the curtain covering one of the Quidditch stands. He snuck underneath, closely followed by his friend.

“Right, what’s the matter?” Harry asked seriously, staring at Hermione intently for an explanation.

“Well, you see, I was wondering around the seventh floor corridor when I noticed a tapestry hanging from the wall…it looked as though it was covering something. So I peeked behind it and there was a small wooden door which led into a dark passageway. Anyway, I lit my wand and went along the passage, down several flights of stairs when I came across another door, I opened it and ended up in a deserted looking corridor. I didn’t have a clue where I was and the door automatically locked behind me. I was looking around for an exit, desperately trying all of the doors along the corridor. One of the doors opened, I peeked inside and…”

“And what, Hermione?” Harry queried, when she hesitated to continue the rest of her tale.

“There was this creature, it was massive. It was kind of like a dog except it had three heads! It took me ages to find an exit, I was starting to get worried when I finally found a door which led directly out onto the Grand Staircase,” Hermione finished, looking up at Harry sheepishly.

“Blimey, Hermione! Why the hell are they keeping a three headed dog in the school?!” Harry wondered aloud.

“I don’t know! I just didn’t know who else to run to.” She said, beginning to shake slightly from the adrenaline rush.

“Honestly, Hermione, it’s fine. I’m glad you came to me.” Harry said as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I just have no idea why…hang on. Didn’t Dumbledore say that the third floor corridor was forbidden? I bet that’s where that passage took you, that’s why no-one is allowed there!”

“But why would they just have a three-headed dog chained up in a unused classroom?” Hermione questioned.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think I want to find out. I think we should keep this to ourselves and not mention it to anyone else unless something else crops up. I don’t want us to get into trouble.” Harry reasoned, terrified at the prospect of returning to the Dursley’s if he managed to get into serious trouble.

The pair conversed for a while longer, frantically discussing theories before heading back up to the castle for dinner. Harry didn’t want to tell Hermione, but something felt strange about this and he didn’t relish in the feeling at all.


	10. This Is Halloween

Thankfully for Harry, nothing more came to light after Hermione’s unexpected encounter with the three-headed dog, and the Halloween celebrations were in full swing. All of the students were enlivened for the Halloween feast and Draco seemed to be particularly delighted, much to Harry’s despair. They were making their way to Potions whilst Draco continued harping on about the upcoming feast.

“Apparently the decorations are really cool and the pumpkins float above the tables and they have loads and loads of sweets! I hope they have Fizzing Whizzbees, they’re my favourite!” rambled Draco excitedly.

“Cool.” Harry replied stoically, keeping his head down as he trudged along the corridor.

“Harry, are you okay?” Draco asked, looking mildly concerned that Harry himself didn’t share the same enthusiasm as him at the prospect of consuming bucketfuls of sweets.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”Harry lied, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I’m just tired is all.”

Luckily, their conversation was cut short by the appearance of Professor Snape, whom impatiently beckoned them all into the classroom. Snape was his usual, cheery self, sneering at everyone and, as always, being particularly cruel to Harry. He was ridiculing him at his abysmal attempt to brew his ‘Cure for Boils’ potion, giving Harry a zero and vanishing his cauldron without a second glance. Harry didn’t have the energy to argue, and he knew that it would only result in further punishment. He hated having his favourite subject ruined by his least favourite teacher. Harry was sure Snape was unnecessarily cruel just to get under his skin.

The class was vacating the Potions classroom and were making their way to History of Magic when Zabini purposefully shoved into him, knocking Harry onto the floor. Harry knew that it was never going to be a good day today, not after finding out that his parents had been murdered on this very day ten years ago. His situation didn’t improve for the rest of the day as, like always, he had a pounding headache during his Defence against the Dark Arts class. Harry was infinitely glad that Quidditch practice was cancelled due to the feast, at least he wouldn’t have to endure practice with the thundering pain in his head.

———————————————————————————————————————— 

Dinner time had arrived and everyone was gravitating towards the Great Hall. Harry successfully managed to convince Draco and Theodore to carry on without him. His friends reluctantly agreed, though he was certain that they would soon forget that he wasn’t in attendance when they began tucking into volcanic amounts of sweets. Harry perched on the end of his bed in the dormitory, patiently waiting until everyone was at the feast. Then, he swiftly grabbed his wand and the photo of his mother and headed for the Astronomy Tower.

The Astronomy Tower was in complete darkness when he arrived and so Harry lit his wand to navigate his way around. There were numerous unlit candles littered across the edge of the room and, with the fire-making spell that he had recently learned, he paced around the room, carefully lighting each candle in turn. Once he had successfully managed to light every candle, he gazed up wistfully at the starry sky above him and enjoyed the refreshing silence. Harry wondered how his life would have panned out if his parents were still alive. He would have already known about the Wizarding World, he would have been taught how to swim, to ride a broomstick and, more importantly, he would have been loved and cared for. Even though Harry knew that James wasn’t likely to be his father, he still couldn’t help feeling guilty that the man had lost his life trying to protect him. With that, Harry began to cry, quietly at first but, the more he thought about his parents, the more he sobbed.

Between his hiccoughing sobs, Harry began to sing a song. He wasn’t exactly sure how he knew it, it was just something that was tucked away in the back of his mind.

“Through the meadow we shall go…where flowers in the meadow blow, Singing…with the birds and bees, Following the wind through the…waving trees.”

“Through the meadow we shall go, Where… new seeds we will sew, Running through… the fields of green, The most wonderful thing we’ve ever seen.”

“Through the…meadow we shall go, Together so you will always…know, That even when I must depart, I will always…be with you, in your heart.”

————————————————————————————————————————

_Snapes' POV_

_Of all the possible scenarios he had cultivated in his mind, students getting sick from too many sweets, being caught out after curfew and the like, none of them could have foreseen a rampaging troll. Quirrell had dashed into the Great Hall to announce that there was a troll on the loose in the castle before, not so helpfully ‘fainting’ in the middle of the hall, sending the majority of the student body into blind panic. Nerves of steel that man._

_When it became apparent that Harry Potter was missing, Severus was seething. It was bound to be the Potter spawn that decided to disregard the rules and go galavanting around the castle._

_Somehow, Severus’ search for the errant boy had lead him to the Astronomy Tower of all places. Sighing, he started ascending the stairs, he might as well start at the top of the castle and work his way down. As he progressed further up the stairs, he could hear the faintest muffle of someone singing, along with hiccuping sobs._

_Creeping carefully, he reached the top step to see none other than Harry Potter, huddled in a ball crying out heart wrenching sobs. Severus recognised the song that the boy had made a hash of, it was one Lily used to sing, particularly when she was trying to comfort someone. The scene almost moved him before he physically shook himself and strode across the floorboards towards the distraught child._

Harry’s POV

Harry burst into tears after finishing his rendition and rested his head on his arms. He tensed when he heard the sound of quickening footsteps approaching, but didn’t lift his head, not wanting to look at anyone with his runny nose and tear stained face. Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and he flinched and moved away, looking up in horror at who stood before him. Professor Snape was staring at him intently, he seemed to look worried. Surely not, the man was never worried about him, he decided it must be a trick of the light.

“Come now, Potter. We have to go, you are in danger here” Snape said ominously, clutching Harry’s arm and leading him towards the door. 

Harry didn’t resist or argue, though he was a little concerned about what the man had said. He felt ashamed that Professor Snape, of all people, saw him in such a state and he hoped beyond hope that the man hadn’t heard him singing. That would just be the cherry on the proverbial cake. 

Hastily, they made their way through the corridor, Snape still tightly grasping his arm and dragging him forward. Harry had butterflies in his stomach when he realised he was being taken to Snape’s office which couldn’t be a good sign, what had he done wrong now? Surely mourning the death of your parents wasn’t a crime.

“Now, Mr Potter, enlighten me as to why you decided to skulk off to the Astronomy Tower when you should have been attending the Halloween Feast?” Snape pried.

Silenced ensued as Harry attempted to regain his composure, his Professor disgustedly thrusting a tissue towards him. 

“Thank you.” Harry stuttered,.“I n-needed some time alone Professor. My parents d-died on Halloween, Sir.”

Professor Snape’s expression didn’t soften, not even a little, as he continued to glare at him with those dark, menacing eyes.

“Well due to your stupidity, Potter, you were unaware that the rest of the students were ordered to their common rooms when it became apparent that there was a troll rampaging through the castle!”

“A troll, in the castle?!” Harry interjected. “But how-“.

“Silence, Potter!” Snape warned and Harry went silent.“Nobody was aware of your absence until a rather worried looking Mister Malfoy approached me informing me that you were missing, sending me on a wild goose chase around the castle!”

There was a moment of silence before Snape impatiently spat. “Well, anything to say for yourself, Potter?!”

“S-sorry, Sir.” Harry muttered. “I should have told someone.”

“As punishment you will be writing me an essay on your foolishness which you will hand to me during your detention tomorrow at six in the evening. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Professor. I’m sorry.” Harry conceded, looking at the floor despondently. 

“Very well. I will escort you back to your dormitory where I expect you to stay until morning. Is that understood?” Snape asked sternly.

Harry nodded and followed Snape to the common room where Draco and Theodore were sitting anxiously waiting for him.

“There you are, Harry!” Draco exclaimed running up to him.

“Yeah, Harry, we were worried you may have been attacked by the troll!” Theodore helpfully added.

Harry knew that Draco and Theodore were looking at him questioningly and guessed that they knew he had been crying, but he was glad that neither of them mentioned it.

“I’m okay, thanks guys. I would rather not explain here though.” Harry said, looking around shiftily and walking towards the dormitory, both boys following closely behind him. 

Harry didn’t know Theodore as well as Draco, but, he seemed so worried that he felt he couldn’t exclude him from the conversation. He told them both where he had been, why he was there and how Snape had come and found him. They both looked sympathetic and Draco kindly patted Harry’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, Harry. Though next time, tell us where you’re going so we don’t assume you have been eaten by a bloody great mountain troll!” Draco exclaimed, ginning.

Harry laughed for the first time that day and he gave Draco what he hoped was a thankful smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for those who wondered, I did make up the song that Harry sings atop the Astronomy Tower. I didn't want to just reuse someone else's lyrics and so I came up with my own. It's nothing special but will crop up in the rest of the series.


	11. The Evil Proprietor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All! I apologise that this weeks update was slightly late, my editor was otherwise engaged and so there was a bit of a delay. All finished now though!
> 
> As always, special thanks to my editor extraordinaire: consultmeforcumberbatch.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Harry arrived for his detention with Professor Snape, who had him scouring cauldrons by hand, which was taxing but mindless so Harry didn’t complain. He was just tackling a particularly stubborn stain when Snape told him that his detention was over. Deciding to finish his work on the cauldron before he left, Harry scrubbed the cauldron and dried it with a hand towel, leaving it upturned to drain before approaching Snape’s desk. Rummaging in his bag, Harry handed the Professor the essay he had been assigned. Snape then gave him a nod and Harry left without another word.

Once his detention with Professor Snape was done and dusted, Harry’s attention turned to the upcoming Quidditch match on Saturday. It was the first match of the season and the nerves were beginning to set in. It would be Harry’s first proper match and he was terrified. Apparently, everyone turned up to the Quidditch matches, even some of the students parents, especially if their child or house was playing. The match was against Gryffindor and he just hoped that their seeker was useless. Harry couldn’t handle the pressure, everyone would be disappointed in him if he failed. Snape would probably have him off the team and Zabini was bound to taunt him if he caused the team to lose. Not only that, but there was this stupid rivalry between the two houses, which didn’t help.
    
    
    ————————————————————————————————————————
    

Saturday came around far too quickly and Harry was up at five o’clock, waiting for the Great Hall to open for breakfast. Sighing, he decided to sit and read his Herbology textbook by the fire, counting down the minutes to six o’clock. After what felt like a lifetime, it was finally six and Harry made his way down to the Great Hall, taking his textbook with him for a distraction.

As always at this time of the morning, hardly any of the students had surfaced. Harry didn’t have much of an appetite at all and he didn’t think he could stomach any breakfast. Really, he had only come down to get some distance between himself and the eager Slytherins. Harry had been sitting alone for all of fifteen minutes before he caught sight of Hermione waltzing though the doors of the Great Hall, spotting her hair before actually seeing her. He waved kindly at her before resuming his reading, though he heard her approaching.

“Good morning, Harry,” she said cheerfully before her face contorted in worry, “You look awful, are you okay?”

“Thanks, Hermione!” he said giggling, “No, not really. It’s my first Quidditch match today, Slytherin vs Gryffindor,” Harry stated plainly.

“Oh, I completely forgot about that! Don’t worry Harry, I’ve seen your flying skills, you will be absolutely fine!” Hermione said encouragingly.

“Thanks, but it’s not the flying I’m worried about. Slytherin are sore losers and I know if we lose the match it will be my fault and Snape will definitely kick me off of the team. I’m going to make a complete fool out of myself” Harry replied solemnly, slamming his book shut frustratedly.

“You won’t make a fool out of yourself, Harry. I know a talented wizard when I see one. Besides, it is only the first match of the season, even if you lost you would still have a chance to win the cup.”

“Yeah I guess,” Harry muttered, “I’m just going to act like it doesn’t matter. At least if I get kicked off the team I won’t have to deal with the pressure!”

“You won’t get kicked off the team, Harry. I’ve seen the Gryffindor team play and honestly, you have nothing to worry about. Our team had so much trouble finding another seeker after Charlie Weasley left Hogwarts last year.”

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better?” Harry asked skeptically.

“No,” she stated, rolling her eyes, “Though I still think Gryffindor will win!” Hermione added winking at Harry.

Harry smirked back at her when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. It was Draco. “Ah, I have to go, Hermione. I’ll see you later?”

“Yes of course. Good luck!” She whispered and, as she saw a group of Gryffindors enter exclaimed, “Prepare to be crushed!”

Hermione tried to be threatening but her wide smile gave her away. Harry chuckled to himself before sitting down next to Draco and nibbling on some buttered toast.

“I don’t know why you hang out with that know-it-all, Harry. She’s so annoying, and a Gryffindor,” Draco spat, clearly in a foul mood.

“You don’t have to like her but she’s my friend. I don’t like that Pansy Parkinson you hang out with, but you’re still my best friend,” Harry replied nonchalantly.

Draco seemed to be a little shell shocked and just gawked at Harry in disbelief. “What?” Harry asked, a little shortly.

“Nothing,” Draco responded, looking away and swallowing a mouth full of cereal, “Anyway, my father is coming to the Quidditch match today and I’m sure he wouldn’t want to see my best friend conversing with a Gryffindor.”

“I don’t really car-“

“I know you don’t,” Draco butted in, “but father has very strict criteria for who I can associate with. So please, just do it for me?”

“Yeah, fine, whatever,”Harry replied a little annoyed, he hated prejudiced people, “If Hermione tries to speak to me, I will give my head a slight shake, she should get the message.”

After that awkward discussion, both Harry and Draco sat chatting to each other whilst countless Slytherin’s came up to wish Harry luck, whilst numerous Gryffindor’s taunted him. When the time came to head down to the Quidditch Pitch, Harry’s stomach was

doing somersaults. Draco had left Harry to meet his father and so he shuffled down to the Quidditch pitch alone, trying desperately to keep his breakfast down. He was nearly there when Zabini shoved past him, talking rather loudly to his sidekicks Crabbe and Goyle about where Harry’s head will hang if he lost the match. He tried his best to ignore him and made his way into the changing rooms, where he was greeted by Marcus, the Slytherin team Captain.

“Alright, Harry?” Marcus asked, looking Harry up and down.

“Yeah” Harry replied, audibly swallowing as he made his way over to one of the toilet cubicles to get changed.

Once he had thrown on his Quidditch gear, Harry and the rest of the Slytherin team huddled together for a pep talk from the Captain. They were all cheering and Harry felt some of his anxiety melt away and was feeling pumped and ready to go. However, his nervousness soon made a reappearance when he made his way out onto the pitch. The stands were overflowing with students and teachers alike. The students to the left of the stadium were all dressed in green, plastered with green face paint and brandishing Slytherin house flags. On the right side, Gryffindors hooted, all sporting crimson and gold. Harry tried to swallow past the lump that had formed in his throat and mounted his broom, awaiting Madam Hooch’s signal for the match to start.

As soon as Madam Hooch gave the signal, both chasers zoomed towards the Quaffle and the match began. Gryffindor had the Quaffle and it didn’t take long for them to score. Meanwhile, Harry was hovering high above the pitch, squinting in search of the Snitch, in which time, the Slytherin team had taken possession of the Quaffle and had managed to score. Harry was keeping an eye on the Gryffindor team Seeker who appeared to just be zooming around, not really knowing what to do. He heard a gasp from the stands and he looked down to see Marcus in a heap on the ground after getting pelted by a Bludger. Harry was searching the skies more frantically now. Without Flint’s guidance, he was sure the Slytherin team would fall apart. Gryffindor scored a few more times and one of the red-headed Gryffindor beaters whacked a Bludger towards him and he narrowly avoided it.

After righting himself on his broom, Harry saw a glint of gold out of the corner of his eye and he sauntered towards it. He didn’t want to go off in full pursuit right away as the Gryffindor Seeker would know he had spotted the Snitch. Instead, Harry floated around until he got a little closer before racing after it. He went in to a steep dive and he could feel the Gryffindor Seeker gaining on him, and so he forced himself to keep his eye on the Snitch and not become distracted. Harry was a few metres from the ground, he attempted to grasp the Snitch when, all of a sudden, a Bludger came hurtling towards him and snapped the front of his broom clean off. Fruitlessly trying to keep control of his broom, Harry crashed, roughly scuffing across the ground as he went. Harry winced at the pain in his wrist, yet, uncurled it to reveal the snitch clasped in his fist.

“The match is over... Slytherin win!” Madam Hooch announced.

A cacophony of cheers emanated from the stands and some were even chanting Harry’s name. He glanced upwards from his position on the floor and saw Draco standing up beaming and cheering. He chanced a look over at the Gryffindor stand where he spotted Hermione, the only happy looking Lion amongst the pack.

The Slytherin team were rushing over to him when the team Chaser, Bletchley, asked hurriedly.

“Potter! Potter are you hurt?”

“Nah, I have a few scrapes and bruises but I’ll be fine” Harry lied, there was no way he was going to the Hospital Wing.

He hoisted himself up and Bletchley patted him on the back. A crowd of Slytherin’s emerged and gathered around him, all of them congratulating him on his win and shaking his injured hand.

After a while, the crowd finally thinned and Harry started to make his way to the changing rooms when he saw Draco running towards him. Draco grasped his hand, much to Harry’s discomfort, and shook it earnestly, delighted that Slytherin had won the match. Approaching behind Draco was a relatively tall man with long white-blonde hair, dressed in all black robes and clutching a black cane which featured a delicately carved snake figure on its hilt. Draco seemed to notice Harry’s wary expression and spun around to address the imposing man.

“Father, I would like you to meet my friend, Harry Potter,” his friend said politely, gesturing towards him as if he were a fine wine rather than a human being.

Harry audibly gulped. So this was Draco’s father. He could now understand why Draco had used his father as a threat, he was utterly terrifying. The man had that menacing look in his eyes and Harry knew he wasn’t someone to be crossed. Tensing, Harry extended his arm towards the man to initiate a handshake. Mister Malfoy took it and proceeded to clasp it rather firmly, as if to silently cement his authority.

“Mr Potter, we meet at last. I am Lucius Malfoy,” the man sneered condescendingly.

“Hello, Mister Malfoy, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Harry replied as confidently as possible.

Then, without any warning, Lucius pulled Harry closer towards him and brandished his cane at his forehead. It took all of Harry’s self control not to flinch, but he didn’t want Draco’s father thinking he was a weakling. Lucius’ cane brushed Harry’s fringe out of the way before the man spoke again.

“Extraordinary. How honourable it must be to carry the mark of the greatest sorcerer of all time.”

Lucius didn’t phrase it like a question, but Harry wanted to explode. How dare he sympathise with the dark wizards actions.

“He killed my-“ Harry stopped abruptly when he saw Draco shaking his head in warning and Harry tried his best to redirect the conversation, “He killed my parents. Though, I suspect he must have had a good reason.”

“Indeed,” Lucius responded, his chilling voice was enough to send shivers down Harry’s spine.

“I will be lucky to become half the wizard he was” Harry added “I hope that, if He ever returned, I would be able to thank him and prove myself worthy,” Harry lied through gritted teeth.

Lucius looked surprised, and so he should have been.

“I am sure that the Dark Lord would offer you a chance to redeem yourself should you become a loyal servant, and would possibly overlook your parents misdeeds.”

“That’s very reassuring, Sir” Harry stated, trying with all his might to offer the man a smile.

“Yes, I think you will be a very positive influence for Draco. I must say, I was a little concerned when he told me he had become friends with the ‘Boy-Who-Lived,’ Lucius sneered.

“There is no need to be concerned, Sir. I will not disappoint you” Harry said emphatically, his glare unwavering.

“I am glad to hear it. I must be going now, it was good to meet you, Mister Potter.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Sir,” Harry said as Lucius made his way back to the castle, Draco traipsing sheepishly alongside him.

Harry was utterly livid as he stormed into the changing rooms for a shower. How could he have been so stupid to make friends with a Voldemort supporter? The very thought of it made him sick. He felt as though he needed to scrub every inch of his body, like the mans aura was some sort of disease that pickled the victim with putrid fungus. Once he was changed, Harry furiously trekked up to the castle for lunch, not wanting to even look at the one he had come to call his best friend.


	12. Revelations

Harry entered the Great Hall which was packed to the hilt with students, and the Slytherin table was buzzing. His eyes wandered down the table where he spotted Draco, who was shyly glancing up at him. Harry didn’t want to face Draco, nor was he in the mood for celebrating and so he spun around a strode out of the door, pushing past a group of third- year students. He had managed to make it halfway across the Courtyard before he heard a familiar voice shouting his name.

“Harry! Harry!”

Ignoring him, Harry carried on, acting oblivious to his friends shouts and continued walking towards the Stone Circle.

“Harry. Harry please, just let me explain!”

Anger was searing through Harry’s veins and he exploded, “Explain what?! That your father is a bloody Voldemort supporter who wished my parents and I dead?! Don’t bother! Tell your father to stick that cane where the sun doesn’t shine!”

Draco had caught up to him at this point and he looked truly dishevelled.

“Please, Harry, don’t judge me based on my father, his opinions are not my own.”

“Oh really?! Well that’s reassuring! Excuse me for thinking the worst of you, sucking up to him and his ideals!” Harry exclaimed, glaring at Draco, hoping to convey his fury through his eyes.

It must have done the trick as Draco sighed and tears welled up in the boys’ eyes.

“Fine, you don’t have to listen to me, but I have my own opinions. I’m not a pawn on a chess board like everyone else in Slytherin. I thought you could see that but I guess I thought wrong. See you around Potter” Draco spat before marching back into the castle.

Harry was still overwhelmed with rage but, at the same time, he couldn’t help feeling a little bit guilty. Harry himself hates it when Snape compares him to James and he would be even more upset if anyone compared him to his Uncle Vernon. He decided to resolve his fight with Draco later. For now, Harry was heading down to the lake for some peace and quiet, knowing that nothing would end well if he tried to reconcile with his friend when he was in such a foul mood. Locating his favourite willow tree, which stood alone alongside the expanse of water, Harry lowered himself to the ground. The midday sun was beaming down, though it did nothing to tamper the chill. Harry wrapped his cloak around himself more tightly before resting his back against the tree trunk. He stared out over the lake, the sunlight reflecting beautifully off of the waters shimmering surface, and thought about his upcoming discussion with Draco.
    
    
    ————————————————————————————————————————
    

It was mid afternoon by the time Harry had returned to the castle and, after taking the time to calm down, he felt ready to apologise to Draco. He searched the castle looking for him, trying all of the usual places including the Great Hall, the Courtyard and the Common Room. Checking the Library, Harry caught a glimpse of Draco’s white-blonde hair in the furthest corner of the room. Draco was sitting alone, his face hidden behind a book, looking as though he didn’t want to be disturbed. Harry approached the boy cautiously and tapped him on the shoulder. Draco jumped and lowered his book for a second before realising it was Harry and turned away from him.

“Draco, can I talk to you?” Harry asked cautiously.

Draco didn’t respond but he stood up, tucked his chair in and folded his arms, looking at Harry expectantly. He knew that they wouldn’t be able to talk in the Library without getting a mouthful from Madam Pince and so he led the way back to their dormitory.

When they arrived, Harry perched on the side of his bed and invited Draco to do the same, so that they were facing each other. Draco averted his gaze, not looking Harry in the eye.

“Look Draco, I’m really sorry. I’m not very good with this whole ‘having friends’ thing and I shouldn’t have gone off on one like that. It’s just...”Harry paused,“It’s just, we are such good friends and when I found out about your Dad, I just couldn’t believe it. I felt betrayed.”

Draco stayed silent and so Harry continued.

“I still really want to be friends with you Draco. I hate it when Snape compares me to my father, and I didn’t even know him! It was unfair and I’m sorry,” Harry added sincerely and Draco finally looked up at Harry.

“Can’t choose your family right?” Draco said casually, shrugging his shoulders.

“No, you can’t. Though, I can pretend to be evil in front of your father if it means we can still be friends,” Harry winked at him cheekily.

Draco responded with a half-hearted laugh,“I meant what I said though,” Draco continued, “I do have my own opinions, I just can’t voice them. I have to please my father, otherwise I would be disowned. ”

“I understand, Draco. I really do. Just promise me one thing though?” Harry said as Draco eyed him quizzically, “Promise me that you won’t try and kill me if your father ever finds out that I’m not aiming to be one of You-Know-Who’s followers,” he said smiling.

“Deal!” Draco replied, shaking Harry’s hand jovially.

————————————————————————————————————————

Winter was certainly approaching, the mid-November air was chilly and the sky was a constant murky grey. Classes went relatively smoothly, if you didn’t count Potions, and he often met Hermione in the Library to work on homework assignments together. Zabini was still being an arsehole, but he didn’t receive as many taunts when he was with Draco and so they tended to stick together like glue.

Unfortunately, during the week, Draco had come down with Wizard’s flu and was being treated in the Hospital Wing, meaning Harry had to face classes alone. He had Potions that afternoon and Harry was dreading it without his right-hand man. As the time came, Snape beckoned them inside before sweeping past the students to the front of the classroom.

“Today you will be attempting to brew the Herbicide Potion in pairs. The instructions are on the board, pair up and begin,” his Professor demanded in a no-nonsense tone.

‘Great’ Harry thought to himself. Trust Snape to set a paired task when Draco wasn’t here, Harry was sure the Professor did it just to spite him. Harry started to panic when everyone else seemed to have found a pair when he felt a tentative tap on his shoulder. Turning around, Harry was pleased to see Hermione grinning at him.

“Can I join you?”

“Of course!” Harry replied “But what about the boy that you usually work with?” Harry whispered.

“You mean Ron?” She asked as she set her things down next to Harry on the workbench. “Yeah, the red-headed boy.”

“Yes, that’s my friend Ron. He is partnering up with Dean today as Seamus is in the Hospital Wing with Wizards flu.”

Just as Harry was about to respond, Snape chimed in.

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for disrupting the class. Now sit down and brew the potion.”

“Yes, Sir” Hermione replied guiltily as she went to gather the required ingredients.

They continued to brew the potion together in silence, apart from the odd whisper to one another. By the end of the lesson, Harry, with the help of Hermione, had actually managed to brew a perfect potion, although Snape just said it was ‘Acceptable’. Harry said goodbye to Hermione as she swept of to her next class whilst Harry packed his things away. He was walking towards the door with his backpack open when Zabini shoved into him causing Harry to trip, sending his belongings flying across the floor. Harry jumped when Snape bellowed.

“Hurry up Potter, before you are late for your next lesson.”

Snape obviously didn’t consider helping Harry as he frantically chucked his belongings haphazardly into his rucksack before rushing out of the classroom as quickly as possible.

Snape’s POV

_Finally, it was time for the brats to pack up. Severus hated teaching first years, they were so clueless it was like trying to get blood from a stone. Also, why Albus felt the need to put Slytherins and Gryffindors together in one classroom was beyond him. The constant bickering was enough to send anyone to an early retirement._

_As always, Potter had been particularly annoying. There was no doubt that the boy was intelligent, yet, he has the attention span of a gnat. Then again, with James Potter for a father, what could one expect? The intelligence must have come from Lily...sweet Lily. How his beloved could have fallen for James Potter of all people was beyond him. He knew that he wasn’t good looking by any stretch of the imagination, but surely his personality was a darn sight better than Potter’s._

_Severus was completing his rounds, clearing the random bits of detritus that his students had left in their wake when he spotted an envelope on the floor. Bending down, his knees cracking, Severus picked up the letter and turned it over, seeing his name written in very familiar writing. Lily. Without a second thought, he plucked the letter from the envelope and began to read._

_Severus couldn’t believe it. Lily hadn’t been unfaithful, she had protected him. The guilt was overwhelming and he propped himself up against the wall of his office, trembling. What was even more important is that he, Severus Snape, had a son: Harry. The thought that he himself had been cruel to his own son since he started school was unbearable. He had been so blinded by his hatred for James Potter that he had never given the boy a chance, or indeed, even considered that the child could be his._

_Lowering himself to the floor, Severus rested his head in his hands and, for the first time since Lily died, let himself cry._


	13. A Dissapointing Notice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All! I am actually uploading on my scheduled upload day!
> 
> As always, this work is edited by the beautiful, consultmeforcumberbatch.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this next instalment!

The next morning, Harry was panic-stricken. He couldn’t find his letter. He had turned out his trunk, his backpack where he found the photograph, and had even stripped his bed to search underneath it, to no avail. Harry felt as though he had lost a piece of himself. It was the only thing he had of his mothers and it was incredibly important. It was obvious that nobody else knew that James was not his father and Harry dreaded to think what would happen if the letter fell into the wrong hands. Just when Harry thought things couldn’t get any worse, he walked into the common room to see a throng of students gathered around the notice board. Wondering what was going and fearing that word had gotten out already, he squeezed through and read the sign pinned to the board.

**URGENT** **ANNOUNCEMENT**  

Due to unforeseen circumstances, Hogwarts school will be closed over the Winter Break. All students will be required to return to their parents/guardians for the duration of the break until school resumes in January. If anyone has any problems finding a place to spend the Christmas Holidays, please see your head of house.

We are sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused.

 

Harry’s heart sank as the meaning of the message hit home. He would have to return to the Dursley’s for Christmas. An ‘inconvenience' was an understatement, more like a complete and utter disaster. Not only did Harry think he would be able to spend his Christmas this year in the comfort of the castle, he was looking forward to actually enjoying a Christmas dinner. He had only ever received cold leftovers at the Dursley’s. Harry debated whether to see someone to make alternative arrangements, yet, seeing as Snape was his head of house, he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance. There was absolutely no way he would admit to the treatment he received from the Dursley’s either, it would only result in more punishment from his uncle.

Despite the disappointing news, Harry tried his best to concentrate on his classes. Although he even found Charms, his favourite class, a struggle and felt dejected from everyone and everything around him. Defence Against the Dark Arts never went well but it was even worse today. His headache got to the point where blotches were clouding his vision, making his already terrible sight that much worse. Harry somehow managed to lose twenty points from Slytherin over the course of the day for not paying attention. 

Several days passed and Harry still hadn’t found his letter. Retracing his steps, Harry looked in all of the classrooms, the common room, in the library and even made a point of fishing through the lost and found to no avail. Giving up, Harry admitted defeat and had accepted that he had indeed lost the letter and tried his best to forget about it. 

————————————————————————————————————————

Draco was finally out of the Hospital Wing and Harry was glad to have his potions partner back. He enjoyed working with Hermione but her friend, Ron, would stare at him the whole time which made Harry feel a little uneasy. Of course, seeing as Harry had his partner back, Snape had decided to set them all an end of year test without giving them time to prepare. Professor Snape handed out the exam papers with a flourish of his wand, set the timer and told them to begin. Luckily, Harry had been studying with Hermione and, with his particular interest in potions, he wasn’t too worried about the test. However, he could practically feel the anxiety emanating off of Draco, who sat beside him.

They had been working for a short while when the door to the classroom burst open, a rather panicked looking Professor McGonagall standing on the threshold.

“We need you in the Hospital Wing, Severus” she announced, looking at the Professor pleadingly.

Harry almost fell off of his chair. Severus? That’s the man his mother’s letter had been addressed to, the one he lost. Snape swept out of the room, threatening that if any of the students moved a muscle whilst he was gone, they would receive an automatic fail on the test. Harry’s palms were sweating and he felt as though he couldn’t breathe. Surely that wasn’t who his mother was writing to, not Snape the dungeon bat. Maybe the name was just common in the Wizarding World? Harry was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when Draco nudged him and whispered.

“Harry, are you okay? You look really pale.”

“Yeah, I’m fine” he said as convincingly as possible, trying to focus on the test and not the feeling of dread that washed over him.

————————————————————————————————————————

Over dinner, Harry had an epiphany. He told Draco that he was going to do his homework and headed for the library. One day when he was looking for Hogwarts: A History, Harry came across a section that held Hogwarts yearbooks, dating back hundreds of years. He thought that he may be able to fish through some of the yearbooks from when his mother was at Hogwarts and see if he could find anyone else with the name ‘Severus’.

Harry swiftly set to work, pulling yearbook after yearbook off of the shelves and stacking them in a pile on the table. Harry knew from Hagrid that his mother was twenty-one when she died and so he had worked out that she would have attended Hogwarts between 1971 and 1978. He began with 1971 flicking through the pages of first years, finding his mother almost straight away amongst the other Gryffindor students. Harry fought back tears as he started at the picture of his mother. She had he hair tied up in a neat ponytail and was beaming at the camera. As these pictures were taken in the magical world, they moved for a short while and he was transfixed seeing his mother move as if she were alive. Harry wiped away his tears with the back of his hand and continued his search, finding James a few spaces after his mother. Harry studied the picture and discovered that, apart from the similar glasses and hair colour, he didn’t resemble James at all.

Fishing through the book, he scanned over the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students but did not find anyone with the name ‘Severus’. Harry was finally onto the Slytherin students when one particular picture caught his eye. It was a picture of Draco’s father, Lucius Malfoy, who appeared as evil then as he is now. Although, he couldn’t get over how much he looked like Draco, except that his friend has never pulled the demonic expression that his father was sporting in the picture. Harry shuddered before pushing that image out of his mind, scanning the rest of the photographs, when, amongst the Slytherin students, he read the name ‘Severus Snape’. He glared at the picture of the Potions Master. He looked very uncomfortable posing for the camera and he hid behind a curtain of black hair.

Not wanting to admit defeat, Harry ploughed on looking though the yearbooks. He hadn’t found anyone between 1971 and 1978 with the name Severus, apart from the Potions Professor he detested, however, he did come across a picture in the 1973 yearbook showing the Gobstones Club. Both Snape and his mother had been in the photograph, smiling at each other. Harry just couldn’t believe it. Surely Snape wasn’t his father, he was too cruel to have been with his mother, who he heard was so kind and gentle. It didn’t make any sense. Carefully returning the yearbooks to the shelf, Harry headed back to the dormitory, falling into bed and trying to forget about his parents and his heritage.


	14. Ripper Was Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING* There will be depictions of child abuse in this chapter. I did mention this in my stories summary but it is just a reminder. If situations such as this upset you, I advise you not to read or to skip this chapter.
> 
> With that being said, onwards my dears!

Unfortunately for Harry, the end of term arrived, meaning he would be heading back to Privet Drive on the Hogwarts Express for the Christmas break. He was absolutely dreading it, but he was trying to convince himself that it was only for a couple of weeks. He had survived for eleven years in their ‘care’ after all. Harry said goodbye to Hermione before boarding the train, as she would likely be sitting with a group of Gryffindors and he didn’t want to intrude.

“Goodbye, Harry. Merry Christmas! I’ll miss you!” Hermione said throwing herself at Harry and hugging him.

Harry was slightly taken aback, he had never been missed in his life. He hugged Hermione tightly before letting go.

“Bye, Hermione. I’ll miss you too! I hope you have a lovely Christmas.”

“Thank you, you too. See you in January!” Hermione waved as she boarded the train, leaving Harry with Draco. 

“Come on then, Harry. Let’s go get a seat!” Draco said, patting Harry on the back.

The pair passed the time by playing back to back games of Exploding Snap and eating Chocolate Frogs that Draco had kindly bought from the sweet trolley for them both. The journey went far too quickly for Harry’s liking and, before long, the train had arrived at the King’s Cross station. 

Following Draco out on to the platform, dragging his truck behind him, Harry spotted Lucius Malfoy and gave him a polite nod which the man returned. Draco then pulled Harry into a one-armed hug before saying goodbye and waltzing over to his father.

Looking around aimlessly, Harry looked out for The Dursley’s before remembering that they wouldn’t have a clue how to get on the platform. Lugging his trunk, Harry followed groups of people who were exiting the platform and waited for the inevitable. 

Once he was back in the Muggle world, Harry glanced around and saw Uncle Vernon standing a few metres away, looking as miserable as always. Harry guessed he could hang his robes on the mans bottom lip, he looked so uptight. Approaching him, Harry attempted to smile at his uncle but the man just scowled at him in return.

“Hello, Uncle Vernon. It’s nice to see you,” Harry offered, trying to be polite despite his growing hate for the man.

“Stop with the pleasantries boy and hurry up!” Vernon bellowed, skulking away, expecting Harry to follow him.

Reluctantly, Harry trudged along behind him as they made their way to the car. Vernon didn’t offer to help Harry heave his trunk into the boot, instead, the walrus of a man just slumped in the drivers seat, threatening him out of the car window. The beginning of term couldn’t come quick enough.

Similarly, Harry was left to lug his trunk into the house by himself and he was not greeted warmly by his Aunt Petunia, who gave him a look of disgust when he dragged his trunk through the hallway. Harry wasn’t at all surprised when they had told him that his trunk would have to live in the cupboard with him. That meant he would literally have to curl up and sleep on it as there was so little space.

Naturally the Dursley’s were as cruel as ever, and with Christmas fast approaching, gave Harry plenty of chores to do. That included cleaning the house from top to bottom ready for when guests came, retrieving the Christmas decorations from the loft and wrapping all of Dudley’s Christmas gifts for them. It took Harry hours to finish wrapping all of Dudley’s presents, he had so many. Harry knew better than to expect any gifts for himself as, for the eleven years that he had lived with the Dursley’s, not once had they bought him so much as a pair of trousers that fit. The only thing that they had bought for him were his glasses. Though he still couldn’t see for toffee and suspected that they were a pair of reading glasses from their local pharmacy rather than his required prescription. 

————————————————————————————————————————

Christmas Day arrived and it was not a day of relaxation for Harry. He had to be up at five o’clock in order to baste the turkey and put it in the oven, ready for the Dursley’s Christmas lunch. However, it wasn’t as if Harry would have been able to sleep in even if he wanted to, with Dudley thundering up and down the stairs in excitement.

Once Harry had prepared the turkey, he turned his attention to peeling and chopping the vegetables and potatoes, ensuring that they were equal sizes so that they cooked evenly. As Harry was chopping he felt a hand grasp his shoulders, the owners nails digging into his skin. Turning around, he saw the imposing form of Uncle Vernon staring down at him.

“You better not mess this up boy, my sister is joining us for Christmas lunch. If you put one toe out of line, you will wish you had never been born. Is that clear?” Vernon sneered at him, bearing his teeth like a rabid dog.

Harry nodded frantically and Vernon let go, pushing Harry’s head towards the kitchen counter, silently conveying for him to carry on with lunch preparations. Harry hated Aunt Marge. She talked to him like dirt, constantly making snide remarks about his parents. Also, she always brought her vicious dog, conveniently named ‘Ripper,’ who was always growling at Harry and biting his trouser leg. 

The despicable woman soon arrived and Harry sighed when he heard the doorbell ring. At the orders of his uncle, Harry abandoned the pastry he was rolling out for the mince pies and reluctantly opened the door. Ripper ran in through the narrow crack as the door opened and Aunt Marge stood scowling at him.

“Why are you here?” She spat rudely, uncannily similar to her brother.

‘Nothing like a polite greeting,’ Harry thought to himself. It is Christmas after all.

“I live here, I thought you knew?” Harry replied sarcastically, unsure why he decided to push his luck. 

“You ungrateful swine! Out of the way” she raged, shoving Harry aside forcefully.

Taking a deep breath, Harry closed the door and returned to his pastry. He had finished preparing the mince pies and set them aside whilst he removed the dinner from the oven and started placing the delicious smelling food into serving dishes. 

Next, he set the table, placed the food down furiously before saying a little too shortly, “Lunch is served.”

The Dursley’s stared at him but Harry just ignored them, turning his back and putting the mince pies in the oven. Harry proceeded to clean the kitchen for something to do whilst he waited for the pastries to bake, not wanting to watch the Dursley’s stuff their faces. He hated having to listen the Dursley’s having fun, pulling Christmas crackers and joking around. Harry’s rage escalated even further when he overheard his Aunt Marge talking about him.

“So Vernon, has this school you are sending the boy to worked on his ignorance and ungrateful behaviour?”

“Yes, Marge, he certainly seems to be learning his lesson. Although, he had to be sent home for Christmas, he is too troublesome to keep out of term time.”

Harry’s hands balled into fists. ‘Breathe’, he told himself, things were going relatively well, don’t ruin it now. With that, the cooking timer sounded and Harry bent down to take the mince pies out of the oven, transferring them to a wire rack to cool when he heard Aunt Marge bellow,

“Bring me more gravy boy!”

“Yes Ma’am,” he replied, seething.

Harry carefully carried the gravy boat over to the table and walked towards Aunt Marge. She was becoming impatient and Harry hurried along, trying with all his might not to spill a drop on Aunt Petunia’s treasured carpet. Harry was almost close enough to pour the gravy onto the woman’s plate when Ripper ran out in front of him. Harry tripped over Ripper and crashed to the ground, knocking his head hard against the dining room table as he went. 

Above him he heard screeching and he could almost feel his uncle’s rage from where he lie on the floor. As Harry got to his feet, he realised that his Aunt Marge was deluged in hot gravy which was beginning to burn her skin through her clothes. Instinctively, Harry rushed to the kitchen, grabbing a damp tea towel and returned to try and clean up the mess. However, Aunt Marge was having none of it and she pushed him away as Vernon tightly grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the back door. 

The air outside was bitterly cold. Harry was shivering and his teeth were chattering, not only from the cold, but also with rising panic. He had really gone and done it this time. His uncle was going to kill him. That stupid dog! 

Vernon opened the shed door and shoved Harry inside before stepping inside himself.

“YOU BURNT MY SISTER, YOU USELESS BOY!” he bellowed before backhanding Harry and sending him to the floor in a crumpled heap.

As he was falling, Harry’s back scraped across something sharp sticking out from the shed wall and he cried out in pain. 

“Please, Uncle Vernon. It was an accident, I didn’t mean to do it,” Harry spluttered, huddling in the corner.

“I DON’T CARE, BOY! YOU NEED TO BE TAUGHT A LESSON!”

With that, Vernon lunged at him and clasped his hands around Harry’s neck. Harry tried to cry out but he was unable to as his uncle was literally squeezing the life out of him. Just when Harry thought he was going to pass out, Vernon let go of Harry, letting him fall to the ground gasping. Harry then cowered as his uncle whipped off his belt in one fluid motion.

 “No! Please, Uncle Vernon, please don’t!”.

Ignoring Harry’s pleading, Vernon grasped him by the scruff of the neck to turn him around, raising his belt above his head before thrashing it down at Harry multiple times. Harry raised his hands to cover his face and cried out as his uncle kept on mercilessly beating him. After what felt like an eternity, Vernon finally stopped, by which time Harry was curled in on himself, whimpering in pain. His uncle then left the shed, slamming the door as he went, leaving Harry alone in the dark.


	15. Stranded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Here are the next two chapters, slightly early this time which makes a change! 
> 
> As always, special thanks to my wonderful sister, consultmeforcumberbatch, for editing this work.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Silence ensued for a while before Harry felt brave enough to prise his eyelids open. His body hurt everywhere and his breath caught as he tried to manoeuvre himself into a sitting position. Harry felt dizzy as he sat up an looked down to see that he was sitting in a shallow pool of his own blood. Forcing back the urge to retch, he started looking for the cause of the bleeding. It turned out that Harry had a particularly deep gash on his lower back from whatever caught him when his uncle had thrown him to the ground. Despite being in unbearable pain, Harry forced himself to stand, biting his lower lip in an attempt to control the pain. He peered through the small window of the shed to discover that the Dursley’s were now sitting around the TV, laughing intermittently at whatever they were watching, and decided to seize his opportunity.

Promptly, Harry turned the contents of the shed upside down looking for anything that may be of use. Seeing as Harry was usually the one tending to the garden and completing the household chores, he knew Aunt Petunia left a bucket full of old clothes to use as rags. Bearing that in mind, Harry pulled out the bucket and hastily rifled through it. He found an old t-shirt which he wrapped around his lower back and tied it at the waist, hoping that would staunch the blood loss from the open wound on his back. Glancing around the space, he saw an old zip-up jacket hanging from a nail on the shed wall and so he grabbed it an flung it over himself. Luckily, it seemed to be Uncle Vernon’s and so it drowned him and covered his backside so that the blood stains were well covered. Lifting the hood of the jacket over his head, Harry peeked out of the window once again, making sure the Dursley’s were distracted. He pushed the shed door open and bolted across the back garden and through the open side gate. Harry gritted his teeth through the throbbing pain as his feet collided with the concrete pavement and ran flat out for as long as he possibly could. 

When he felt that he was far enough from Privet Drive, Harry slowed down to a jog and then a walk before collapsing onto the kerb to catch his breath. Harry had no idea where he was going to go, he had nobody he could go to. With no other living relatives and none of his friends addresses, he was stranded. Harry wasn’t even allowed to practice magic outside of school and so his wand, which was safely tucked in the waistband of his trousers, was utterly useless. Regardless, Harry extracted the wand from his trousers and twiddled it in his fingers as he contemplated his options. He hoped against hope that someone would come to his aid.

As if Harry’s prayers had been answered, he felt a breeze rush past him and, as he looked up, he came face to face with a magnificent triple-decker bus. Harry had never seen anything like it. The bus was a rich plum colour with wide glass windows which reflected the light shining from the vehicles headlights. Attempting to stand, Harry realised that someone was striding towards him.

“Good evening, Sir. You called for the Knight Bus? I am Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor for this evenin’,” the man said tiredly.

“Um, yeah,” Harry replied uncertainly, staring up at the man skeptically.

“Where will I be takin you then, Sonny?”

“What do you mean? Can I go anywhere?”

“The Knight Bus is ‘ere to ‘elp a stranded witch or wizard reach their desired location. As long as it is in the country and not underwater, we can get you there,” Stan recited.

A wave of relief washed over Harry. These were people from the Wizarding World, he could go back to Hogwarts! Though he couldn’t ask to go straight there, the school was closed and the conductor would become suspicious. Instead, he could ask Stan to take him to Hogsmeade and walk the rest of the way to Hogwarts.

“Okay great. Can you take me to Hogsmeade please?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Yessiree! Hop aboard!” Stan said, gesturing for Harry to get on the bus. 

————————————————————————————————————————

Harry was shocked into silence at what he saw before him. The vehicle was much larger on the inside than it was on the outside, so much so that there were rows of beds stretching along each deck of the bus, some of which held witches and wizards sleeping. Also, dangling in the centre of the vehicle was a large, lavish chandelier, glass droplets hanging from its edges. 

“All right ,Ernie. We’re good to go!” Stan shouted, giving the driver a thumbs up. 

Harry made his way to the back of the bus and stood, grabbing a handrail above him and leaning against the wall of the bus. As much as he wanted to sit down, Harry knew that it would be uncomfortable and he didn’t want to get bloodstains on the bedsheets. Harry wasn’t prepared when the Knight Bus suddenly lurched, taking off at breakneck speed. The unexpected jolt made Harry unsteady on his feet and he was trying very hard not to fall over. Stan was navigating through the beds with practiced ease, despite the fact that they were swaying up and down the aisle, and headed towards the back of the bus where Harry stood. How anyone could possibly sleep through the movement Harry didn’t know. He was trying with all of his might not to be sick as the bus weaved seamlessly between the oncoming traffic.

“What you headin to Hogsmeade for then?” Stan asked conversationally.

“Oh, one of my friends lives there, we are meeting at his before we go back to school,” Harry lied smoothly.

“Ah right”

Harry let out a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding, Stan had bought his lie. He tried to continue the conversation to try and distract himself from getting motion sickness.

“This is my first time on the Knight Bus. My father had told me about it but I have never used it,”Harry lied, “How come the Muggles can’t see us?”

"Ah, they don’t see any-fin them Muggles, few simple Notice-Me-Not charms and they don’t 'ave a clue,” Stan replied.

The bus came to an abrupt halt and Stan announced that they were at the Leaky Cauldron. The few wizards that were left vacated the vehicle and the bus set of again in a flash. 

“Next stop is Hogsmeade my son, unless anyone else decides to get on,” Stan said.

“Okay, great!” Harry responded, thankful that they were almost at his destination.

Around fifteen minutes later, to Harry’s relief, they had arrived at Hogsmeade. He made his way through the aisle and stepped off of the bus.

“Hold on there, Son. You haven’t paid yet!” Stan called out after him and Harry began to sweat.

Crap, he hadn’t thought about having to pay. He tried to come up with something on the spot.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Harry apologised, rummaging through his pockets even though he knew he wouldn’t find anything, “Uh, can you charge it to my Gringotts account?” He asked hopefully.

“Sure thing, jus need to see ya wand and then you can head off.”

Sighing with relief, Harry offered the man his wand. After a few quick incantations, Stan handed back his wand and he hopped back off of the bus. 

“Merry Christmas!” Stan shouted and waved to him.

Harry had completely forgotten it was Christmas Day, yet, just as he was about to reply, the Knight Bus had vanished and he was standing in the middle of a deserted cobbled street. By this time, Harry guessed it must be late-afternoon or early evening. The shops were obviously closed for Christmas and so there were very few people milling around, the pubs still appeared to be open, jovial voices traveling along the road. It was snowing slightly and Harry was freezing cold and in agony. He traipsed up the snow dusted street towards a road sign and followed it to Hogsmeade station.

Once he had arrived at the station, Harry was able to get his bearings and started the endless journey towards the castle, praying that at least someone would be there. Usually, it would only take Harry around ten minutes to get to Hogwarts, but, due to the severe pain he was experiencing, it took him approximately a lot longer. 

Finally, he made it to Hogwarts gates, which luckily enough, opened to admit him. Harry felt as though he couldn’t walk another step and he didn’t think he would be able to make it to the castle in one piece. Looking around for inspiration, Harry saw smoke rising over the left side of the grounds. He hobbled towards the telltale smoke that was billowing out of the chimney of Hagrid’s hut. Relief washed over him and, going as quickly as he possibly could, he approached the cobblestone cottage and walked up the stone steps to rap lightly on the wooden door. Within a minute or so, the door opened and he was staring up at a rather flustered looking Hagrid. 

“Harry?!” Hagrid said, sounding worried. “What’s wrong?!”

Before Harry could answer, he started swaying and fell limply into Hagrid’s outstretched arms.


	16. The Big Friendly Giant

Hovering in the void between consciousness, Hagrid’s voice was just a distant murmur from where Harry rested, cradled in Hagrid’s arms. Harry appreciated the comfort and nuzzled his head into the mans chest as Hagrid carried him towards the castle.

Walking through the corridors, Harry heard a selection of voices as well as a few shocked gasps. Then, someone placed their hand against his forehead before Hagrid was hastily ushered along the corridor. 

They then made their way into a brightly lit room, so bright in fact that Harry closed his eyes against the light and buried his head further into the crook of Hagrid’s arm. Another door opened before he felt Hagrid holding him out and lowering him onto what felt like a bed. Harry winced as his delicate back brushed the bedsheets and was extremely grateful when Hagrid gently turned him over onto his side.

“Harry! Harry, can you hear me?” An unidentifiable voice asked him.

Too exhausted to answer, Harry just nodded his head slightly.

“Alright, dear. Just stay as still as you can whilst I cast a diagnostic charm okay?”

It sounded as though it was a woman speaking and Harry intended to shake his head in protest, though he couldn’t muster up the energy. Instead, he just laid still and closed his eyes, weaving in and out of consciousness as he heard fragments of peoples conversations.

“What do yer mean he’s been attacked?”

“Go and fetch Professor Dumbledore.”

“Quickly! The boy needs a pain and a blood-replenishing potion.”

With that, someone was gently lifting him into an upright position and holding something to his mouth. Harry shook his head and attempted to turn away when somebody forced the bottle to his lips, covering his mouth and nose to make him swallow. That was the last thing Harry remembered before the world faded to black.

_Snape’s POV_

_Ah, the joys of Christmas Day. Oh how Severus hated it. Sitting around a table with his insufferable colleagues as they tried to instil some Christmas cheer into him, when in actual fact, most of them wouldn’t piss on him if he were on fire. Yes, it is indeed wonderful to lounge around drinking mulled wine comprehending everything that you have lost. Christmas was just a poor excuse to be civil with one another for twenty-four hours._

_Having said that, Christmas was slightly more tolerable than New Year. What in God’s name was there to celebrate? It’s the same old shit, just a different year. Therefore, with these thoughts swimming around his head, Severus was more cranky than usual. He could only take so much jovial activity before needing to slope off to the comfort of his own quarters._

_Severus exited the Great Hall, after creating a ridiculous reason to be excused. Then oddly, he noticed Hagrid was striding through the corridor surrounded by a group of flustered looking House Elves. He was in half a mind to just ignore the commotion and carry on his merry way, but something just didn’t seem right with this scenario. Rolling his eyes, Severus begrudgingly swept over to see what all the fuss was about when he saw Hagrid was carrying a little boy. Not just any little boy it transpires, but his son, Harry._

_Starting to panic slightly, Severus approached Hagrid. When he had a better view of Harry, his heart stopped. His son was a mess. The boys clothes were blood soaked and his skin was deathly pale. His eyes rolled deliriously and the boy had his head tucked in the crook of the half-giants arm._

_“What is going on, Hagrid?” Severus asked, trying not to appear too worried as he rested the back of his hand against Harry’s forehead to check for a fever._

_The boy was ice cold and trembling, which sent alarm bells ringing in his head._

_“I dunno, Sir. ‘Arry just knocked on me door a minute ago and fell right in me arms.”_

_“Quickly then, lets get him to the Hospital Wing,” Severus insisted, hastily ushering the pair and the small audience they had acquired along the corridor._

_————————————————————————————————————————_

_Once Harry had been tended too, Severus slumped down into the flimsy plastic chair next to his sons bed. He told himself that he would only stay for a short while, there is no way that he was going to risk Harry finding out about his true parentage. It was just far too risky. Then again, his aunt and uncle obviously weren’t doing a very good job of keeping his son safe, considering the state he had turned up to Hogwarts in._

_Severus was pulled out of his musings when Poppy addressed him._

_“Oh, Severus. I didn’t realise you were still here. You can’t tell me you have actually started to care for the boy!” The Matron exclaimed, flitting around between the beds in the Hospital Wing._

_Severus just stayed silent and he knew he had raised the woman’s suspicions._

_“What is troubling you, Severus? I don’t think I have ever seen you so tense and that is saying something!”_

_“It’s nothing, Poppy.” Severus muttered agitatedly in response._

_“Well it certainly doesn’t sound like nothing…” Poppy pried._

_Severus sighed and removed his hands from his face to look up at the Matron in fury._

_“I am fine. Just leave me alone will you, woman?!”_

_“No, I will not, Severus Snape! If something is wrong then I will damn well find out, even if I have to place a sticking charm on your behind!” The Matron screamed, giving Severus a headache._

_He remained silent for a little while, just thinking things through as he watched his son lying motionless on the hospital bed._

_“Look, Severus.” Poppy continued after a period of silence. “I have known you since you were a student here and you have come to me many times in the past…”_

_That was certainly true. Severus always found himself in the Hospital Wing seeing as Potter and his cronies were so intent on injuring him in one form or another. Madam Pomfrey also tended to him at the beginning of term, after spending a brutal summer with his drunken father. The Matron herself never mentioned anything, but he was sure she knew, she was far from stupid after all._

_“…I only want to help you, Severus, but you need to tell me.”_

_Momentarily taking his eyes off of Harry, he looked up towards Poppy to see a sincere look in her eyes and genuine worry. Severus knew she was just trying to help, but he just couldn’t divulge this particular information. Unless…_

_“Poppy, may I request that you cast the paternity charm on myself and Mr Potter?” Severus finally asked, giving the woman a stern look as if daring her to even question it._

_“Severus I…what are you trying to say?”_

_“Just do it will you, Poppy?” He snapped trying to calm his nerves as he awaited his fate._

_Without saying another word, Poppy waved her wand in an intricate motion. If both his and Harry’s chests glowed a green colour, that meant they were indeed father and son, if not, their chests would light up red._

_Holding his breath as Poppy worked, Severus kept his eyes rooted to Harry’s chest until he saw it light up. It was green. Even though it was highly likely it was true, going by Lily’s letter, Severus was still shaken and he felt as though he was going to faint and throw up at the same time. This boy was his son and, so far, he had made his  school life a misery._

_A tentative hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his musings and he was met with a very confused Matron._

_“Poppy, I implore you that we keep this to ourselves.” Severus stated before she could rush off and tell Professor Dumbledore. He could only imagine the uproar it would cause if the Wizarding World found out that he was the father of the ‘Golden Boy.’_

_“Of course, Severus, but how can this be?” Poppy asked shyly._

_“I found a letter, Poppy. One of which I am assuming belonged to Harry until I found it lying on the potions classroom floor. It was from Lily. It turns out that she never had an affair, she left me to protect us, to protect Harry. Now look at the mess I have managed to get him into.” Severus huffed, gesturing towards his still sleeping son. “Please keep this to yourself, Poppy. Harry and I will both be in terrible danger should anyone find out.”_

_“You have my word, Severus. Patient confidentiality.” She stated, winking. “I will leave you two alone, just call me when he wakes?”_

_Severus nodded and watched the Matron retreat out of the private cubicle, closing the door softly behind her. Turning his attention back to Harry, he mindlessly swept the boys’ fringe off of his sweaty forehead before he looked at him properly. He was a spitting image of Lily, especially when he was sleeping. Harry’s mouth parted in exactly the same way, sending out small puffs of air every time he exhaled. Severus was immensely glad that the boy didn’t share any strong resemblances with him. He was not a good looking man by any stretch, his nose being a particularly undesirable feature. No, Harry had Lily’s adorable button nose and the only things that were noticeably Severus’ were the child’s hair colour, pale complexion and his gangly limbs._

_Feeling restless, Severus started pacing back and forth across the width of the room, anxiously waiting for his son to awaken._

_————————————————————————————————————————_

Harry's POV

Harry could hear practiced footsteps pacing up and down and yet, he couldn’t physically prise his eyelids open. Despite the monotonous sound being rather soothing, Harry continued trying to force his eyes open until he finally managed it. Harry couldn’t see properly, only indistinguishable blobs that he attempted to focus on to determine where he was. The last thing he remembered was turning up at Hagrid’s door, the rest was a blur.

Harry gritted his teeth as he tried to manoeuvre himself into a sitting position when an unexpected hand gently pushed Harry back down. Fuming, Harry tried again, only for the action to be repeated. He was just about ready to lose it when he felt someone carefully placing his glasses on his face. Harry was beyond surprised when he opened his eyes to see Snape staring at him calculatingly. Was there a bit of concern there? No, he had to be mistaken.

“How are you feeling, Mr Potter?” Snape asked, staring at Harry intently.

“Fan-bloody-tastic” Harry croaked dryly.

“Language, Mr Potter.” Snape reprimanded and Harry instinctively turned away from the man. 

He then noticed a glass of water resting on his bedside table.Wanting nothing more than to quench his dry throat, Harry attempted to reach for the glass but winced in pain as the movement reopened his still healing wounds.

“Here, let me help you.” Snape offered, rising from his chair.

“No, I’m fine.” Harry insisted, shaking his head as he continued to reach for the glass.

Harry had finally managed to reach it, yet when he tried to grasp the tumbler, it slipped between his fingers and crashed to the floor, sending shards or glass across the room. Harry flopped back against the pillows in indignation. He had to fight the desire to cry from pure exhaustion and instead hugged his pillow tightly. Professor Snape raised his wand and Harry cowered away instinctively.

“Sorry, Sir! I won’t do it again!” Harry apologised, keeping his pillow in front of him for protection.

Snape didn’t offer a reply and instead just lazily pointed his wand at the glass which reformed and set itself back on the bedside table. His Professor then waved his wand a second time to vanish the mess he had created on the floor. Harry was still purposefully looking away when Snape decided to break the silence.

“Mr Potter?”

A few moments passed and Harry didn’t even acknowledge his Professor. Instead he chose to stare intently at a spot of peeling paint in the corner of the room.

“Harry, look at me please.”

Upon hearing his first name, Harry reluctantly turned his head.

“Why were you so stubborn that you wouldn’t let me help you?” Snape asked, unusually calmly.

Harry sighed exasperatedly. “Nobody can help me, especially not you.”

“And why is that?”

Harry noticed that Snape was being uncharacteristically patient, though he expected it was only because he was hurt and emotionally unstable. 

“Forget it. It isn’t important.” Harry muttered, looking away from the mans’ calculating gaze.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that, otherwise you wouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Just forget it alright! It doesn’t matter and you wouldn’t believe what I said even if I told you!” Harry said loudly, huffing before turning away from his Professor.

Silence ensued before Snape finally said, “This is about that letter, isn’t it?

Harry snapped his head around. “What letter?” He then asked, trying to sound as clueless as possible.

“A valiant effort,” Snape declared dryly, “But you know perfectly well what I’m talking about. The letter you misplaced when Mr Zabini knocked you over in my classroom.” The man stated plainly, glaring at Harry as if waiting for him to explode. Harry wasn’t going to disappoint him.

“You’ve known all this time and you never thought to mention it! I searched the entire castle for that letter and you had it in your greasy hands the whole time!” Harry shouted.

“Potter…” Snape warned.

“No! Don’t ‘Potter' me! You have been treating me like dirt from the bottom of your shoe and then I find out you’re my father?! I know you don’t want me, so just leave!” Harry ordered and silence ensued.

“I will not be spoken to like that, young man. I will come back when you can speak to me appropriately.” Snape said through gritted teeth as he marched out the door, leaving Harry alone to brood. 

Harry screamed silently into his pillow at the injustice of it all. Snape would never want to take him in and he would have to go back to the sodding Dursley’s. His Uncle would probably kill him for running away like he did.

After letting his emotions run free and sobbing into his pillow, Harry composed himself and decided to look at his surroundings. He appeared to be in a hospital, except he wasn’t on a ward, instead he was lying in the middle of a compact room. Everything around him was white, even down to the bedclothes which gave the room a very clinical feel. Also, the room was unbelievably sparse, with only a bedside table, an oil burner and a couple of chairs decorating it. There was a door on the opposite wall to Harry, which he guessed was a water closet. At least he wouldn’t have to travel far for the bathroom. Everything held the distinct smell of bleach which was almost potent enough to make him gag. 

Before he had a chance to think about it, an older looking witch strode through the door. She was wearing scarlet robes with a cotton white apron over the top and her short curly hair was scraped back and covered with a white headscarf. 

“Oh, you are awake, Mr Potter! How are you feeling? I’m Madam Pomfrey.” She explained offering Harry a small smile.

“Hello, Madam Pomfrey. I’m fine” Harry replied shortly, he was still rather annoyed after his conversation with Snape.

“You are most certainly not fine, Mr Potter. I can see that with half an eye! Are you hungry? When was the last time you ate anything?”

“Um…” Harry couldn’t actually remember the last time he had eaten, “…Christmas Eve morning I think?”

Madam Pomfrey stared at him in a state of shock. “Oh good heavens! We certainly need to get some food into you, you’re wasting away as it is! I’ll be right back.” The matron assured him as she rushed out of the room in search of sustenance.

Two minutes later, Madam Pomfrey was effortlessly manoeuvring a wheeled table towards him with her wand which held a plethora of delicious looking food. The table conveniently slid underneath Harry’s bed so that he could eat whilst in a reclined position, for which he was grateful.

A steaming bowl of beef stew and dumplings with a side of thickly sliced bread was presented to him. Inhaling deeply, Harry was anxious to get stuck in and he took a small swig of pumpkin juice before Madam Pomfrey swept from the room leaving Harry to eat in peace.

Harry picked up the spoon ready to delve in but became incredibly frustrated when his hands kept shaking, spilling most of the stew down his front. He hadn’t eaten in so long and he had lost so much blood that his body felt incredibly weak. Giving up, he decided that it was safer to eat the bread as he could pick it up with his fingers before dipping it in the stew to soften it.

Once he was finished, Harry called out for Madam Pomfrey, who swiftly bustled into his cubicle.

“I have finished eating, thank you.” Harry said politely, nudging his tray across the wheeled table.

“Are you sure that is all you can manage, dear?” She asked, noticing how little food he had consumed.

“Yes. I’m really tired, Miss.” Harry replied smoothly, there was absolutely no way he was going to tell her that he was struggling to use his hands. The matron may offer to feed him herself and there was no way Harry would ever resort to that, no matter how hungry he was.

“Very well, dear.” She said, casting a quick ‘Tergeo’ to remove the spilt stew from Harry’s pyjamas and bedclothes.

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.” Harry replied gratefully, offering her a small smile as he settled himself back under the covers.

“You’re welcome, my dear.” She said, smiling back as she waved her wand to extinguish the oil burners  and left the room.


	17. Two's Company at 2am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! I am back with another update for you all!
> 
> Again, this work is edited by the wonderful, consultmeforcumberbatch.
> 
> Thank you for supporting my story and please let me know what you think!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

_Harry was sitting in Potions class brewing a Herbicide Potion with Draco. They were messing around together when Harry accidentally knocked one of the potion liquids off of the work bench, sending glass shattering and liquid spilling all over the dungeon floor. Harry crouched down intending to clear away the mess when he looked up to see Professor Snape glaring down at him._

_“You need to be taught a lesson, Potter!” Snape roared grabbing him by the scruff of the neck._

_“Please don’t, Professor. Please!” Harry begged but Snape just ignored him as he threw him to the ground and started casting a string of spells that caused him to writhe in agony._

_“No, Professor Snape! Please! I won’t do it again! Snape! Snape!” Harry screamed._

Harry heard a woman’s voice and felt a pair of firm hands on his shoulders.

“Geroff me!” He shouted, flailing around as he tried to bat the persons hands away.

They had finally let go and Harry curled in on himself, trembling as he tried to calm himself down from his particularly vivid nightmare.

“Harry? What’s wrong?” Snape asked as he barged into his cubicle, looking as intimidating as ever, even in his night robe.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said what I said! Just please don’t hurt me!” Harry pleaded, still shaken from the Snape he had encountered in his nightmare and feeling unsure as to how this Snape would react to being disturbed at this hour.

With that, Harry heard rustling before he felt a vial being pressed to his lips. As soon as the potion passed his lips, his entire body relaxed and he contentedly sank back against his pillows. After a moment, Harry plucked his glasses from his bedside table and slipped them on his face. He was greeted by Snape’s infamous expectant glare.

“What the hell have you drugged me with this time?” Harry finally asked.

“Just a Calming Draught.” Snape replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. “Now, care to tell me what that was all about?”

“No.” Harry responded flatly, turning away from his interrogator.

“I am starting to lose my patience. Tell me, Potter.”

“Don’t call me Potter if I’m not a Potter.” Harry insisted. “Anyway like I said, you can’t help me. It will only make it worse if you try.”

Snape appeared confused but replied nonetheless. “Harry, you are safe here. Nobody is going to hurt you under myself and Dumbledore’s watch. I know you and I haven’t gotten off to a particularly good start and I admit fault for that. I thought that you were the byproduct of the woman I loved so dearly and my school nemesis. James and I never got along from the moment I started Hogwarts, much like you and Mister Zabini. I wrongly directed my anger towards you and I apologise for that.”

In a way Harry could understand where the man was coming from but he just didn’t trust him. Living with the Dursley’s made Harry wary of adults and so it took a while for him to place his trust in anyone. Harry knew that Professor Snape wouldn’t have the patience, nor the inclination to look after him.

“Look, I’m sorry but I can’t get over it just like that. I know everyone hates me and that I’m a useless freak. I get it, I don’t need to be told again. I just wanted you to know that I was sorry for what I said earlier. So just forget it and I won’t breathe a word to anyone.” Harry stated plainly.

“Listen, Harry. I don’t want to forget and I am not going to. I want to make amends. You are my son and I am going to stick around whether you like it or not. I have already missed eleven years of your life and I’m not going to miss another, is that clear?” Snape replied firmly, looking at Harry with such sincerity that Harry was inclined to believe him.

He was in a state of shock. This certainly wasn’t the same bloke he had met a few months ago. His Professor must be lying. There was absolutely no way that he would want him for a son. Harry wasn’t going to fall for it, though knowing it was no good arguing, Harry just replied with a small nod.

“Good. Now, care to tell me why you were screaming at two in the morning?” Snape questioned.

“Not particularly.” Harry responded, bitterly.

His Professor let out an almighty sigh and he could tell the man was growing impatient. He supposed the man had done well to reign in his temper thus far.

Just a nightmare, Sir.” Harry continued.

“Hm, I guessed as much. Care to elaborate?”

“No. Like I said, I just wanted to apologise.”

“So you decided to scream the castle down?” 

“I know you don’t get it, alright! I just thought you would hit me for what I said!” Harry shouted before clamping his hands over his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that. Harry sheepishly turned away for a few minutes.

“Harry, look at me please.” His Professor said after a short pause.

Reluctantly turning his head, Harry waited for Snape to continue.

“I am many things, Harry, but I am not violent. Especially not towards children. Do you understand?” Snape asked, staring at him earnestly and Harry silently nodded in response.

“Good. Now, I need to look at the injuries on your back to see if they are healing. Will you let me do that?” He questioned, though it sounded more like a statement.

“Isn’t that the Matron’s job?” Harry asked looking at the man suspiciously. He certainly didn’t want Snape seeing his scars, he would ask way too many questions.

“Yes, but as your father, I want to see for myself.”

Harry considered this and gazing up at the man he said. “On one condition, you don’t ask how I got them.”

Snape sighed before responding. “You are a Slytherin if ever I saw one. I will need to know sooner or later but we won’t discuss it now. I will come and talk to you after breakfast.”

Harry shook his head frantically. “Nope, no deal.” He said, turning his back away from his Professor childishly.

“Of course, I do have other means of getting the information from you.” Snape sneered, “As your father, and indeed as a Potion’s Master, I can legally administer Veritaserum if the situation calls for it? You are fairly adept at potions so I am sure you are familiar with its effects?” 

“You wouldn’t.” Harry challenged.

“Oh, but I would.” Snape replied, smirking satisfactorily.

“Fine.” Harry spat impatiently, wincing as he turned over and lifted his pyjama shirt for Snape to inspect his back.

All was silent for a moment and Harry had to glance over his shoulder to make sure that his Professor hadn’t left the room. Instead, he just saw Snape in a rare state of shock, staring at his back as if he were some sort of alien. Harry didn’t like feeling like an animal on display at the zoo, and so he pulled his pyjama top down and looked away again. 

A moment later, Harry felt his pyjama top gently being lifted and a cold hand inspecting his wounds. The mans finger grazed over the gash on Harry’s back and he took a sharp intake of breath.

“Sorry, Harry.” Snape muttered idly.

“S’alright.” Harry replied, biting his lower lip to prevent embarrassing himself by crying out again.

His shirt was then pulled back down over his back and he felt a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

“One of the gashes on your back may need further treatment but I will leave it alone for now and see what it is like in the morning. If it bothers you at all for the rest of the night call Madam Pomfrey, alright?’”

Harry nodded and yawned as he settled himself down under the covers. Snape gently removed his glassed, folding them up and placing them within reach on his bedside table.

“Goodnight, Harry.” Snape whispered softly before leaving the room.

“G’night, Sir.” Harry murmured as he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	18. The Dreaded Discussion

Harry awoke to the sound of humming coming from somewhere out in the hall. He winced as he heaved himself up into a sitting position and reached out for his glasses with shaking hands. Everything came in to focus and Harry caught a waft of some delicious smelling food before noticing the tray full of goodies sitting atop of the wheeled table. Harry was desperately trying to stretch and wheel the table towards him when a familiar face appeared at the door.

“Ah, good morning, dear. Oh, let me help you with that.” Madam Pomfrey said before sweeping over and pushing the table over for Harry.

“Good morning and thank you.” Harry smiled as he took in the sheer amount of food on his plate.

There was every breakfast food he could imagine piled on the tray, including a Full-English breakfast with all the trimmings; toast with a selection of preserves; a bowl of Pixie Puffs; a muffin and a glass of pumpkin juice.

“What’s the time please, Madam Pomfrey?” Harry asked politely, wanting to know how much longer the peace would last before his Professor arrived.

“It’s eight-thirty dear, Professor Snape will be along shortly.” She replied, and to Harry’s dismay, Snape came striding through the door.

Nodding at Madam Pomfrey, she left the room and closed the door behind her. Harry had suddenly lost his appetite, dwelling on the conversation he was going to have with the Potion’s Master. It was silent for a moment before Snape addressed him.

“Good Morning, Harry. Carry on and eat your breakfast, I don’t have anywhere to be.” Snape said, pulling out a book from the inside of his robes and settling in a chair to read.

“Morning.” Harry mumbled in response, disgusted that Snape had put him off of his breakfast, which had looked delicious until a few minutes ago.

No matter how much Harry wanted it, he didn’t want to attempt tackling the Full-English when his hands shook as much as they did. He knew that Snape would pick up on it and so he just ate two pieces of buttered toast and drank his pumpkin juice before pushing the tray away. The Professor glanced over at him.

“Don’t you want any more? You have barely eaten anything.” Snape said, looking at Harry skeptically.

“No. I’m full.” Harry lied.

He could tell that the man didn’t believe him but he was grateful that Snape didn’t press the matter any further.

“I need the loo.” Harry suddenly announced in an attempt to delay the inevitable conversation even further. 

He shuffled towards the edge of the bed and prepared to stand up for the first time since his arrival. Upon standing, Harry’s legs were so weak that they gave out from underneath him and he slumped back onto the bed before punching the mattress in frustration. Snape walked over to him, helping him into a standing position and offering his arm to walk to the bathroom a few steps away.

The Professor opened the door for him before saying. “I will be just out here if you need me, okay?”

Harry nodded, beyond embarrassed that he had to accept Snape’s help and shuffled into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The lavatory was just as plain as the rest of his cubicle and the granite floor was chilly under his bare feet. Sitting down to use the loo, not trusting his legs enough to stand, Harry took the time to gaze around the room. Aside from the sink and a waste bin, the only other item occupying the room was a small shower. Well, that is if you could call it shower. It was just a white shower curtain attached to a rail on the ceiling with a drain set into the floor. 

Deciding he had probably delayed the conversation for as long as he could, Harry washed his hands and limped over to the door. Upon opening it, he found Snape standing just beside it and the man once again offered his arm to Harry and lead him back towards the bed. Then, after making sure he was settled, Snape leant back in his chair and addressed him.

“Right, Harry. I’m listening whenever you’re ready.” He said, looking at Harry expectantly. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Harry said defensively, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I thought you might say that.” Snape replied. “That’s why I brought a little incentive.” He said, dramatically placing a vial of Veritaserum down on the table in front of Harry.

Harry sighed. “Fine, I’ll talk, but only if you promise me that what I say won’t leave this room. Unless I give my permission of course.” Harry added before glaring at Snape.

“Agreed.” The Professor responded.

“So…what do you want to know?” Harry asked, sounding thoroughly bored.

“Well, I suppose you should start with what caused, or may I say, whom caused you to arrive here with serious injuries?” Snape questioned.

“Uncle Vernon. Next.” Harry replied simply, hoping to avoid delving into the topic any further.

Snape looked absolutely furious but Harry, for once, didn’t think the mans’ anger was directed at him.

“You mean to tell me that your injuries were inflicted by your uncle whilst you were at home?” Snape asked, looking Harry up and down in utter disbelief. 

Harry merely nodded before continuing. “Yeah, they have always treated me like that, though this was a particularly bad outburst from my uncle. Basically, Aunt Marge asked me for more gravy and as I went to to pour it onto her plate, I tripped over Ripper. Ripper’s Aunt Marge’s bulldog by the way. Anyway, I fell and hit my head on the table but, the gravy went all over her. I tried to clean it up but before I could, Uncle Vernon dragged me out to the shed and punished me.” Harry said as if he were simply commenting on the weather.

“You mean to tell me, that the state that you arrived at Hogwarts in, was due to your uncle getting angry that you spilt gravy on your aunt? It was an accident. Why did she ask you to get the gravy for her anyway, Harry?”

“I cooked the lunch. I came out of my cupboard at five…”

Harry was interrupted by Professor Snape. “Wait, wait. They put you in a cupboard as a punishment?!”

“I wish! No, the cupboard under the stairs was where I slept. I’ve never had a bedroom.” Harry stated.

Snape just stared at him and didn’t respond so Harry just decided to carry on.

“Anyway, I got up at five to start the Christmas lunch whilst Dudley opened his presents. Then, when lunch was ready, I cleaned up the kitchen and took the mince pies out of the oven before the gravy incident happened.”

“So, when did you have your Christmas lunch, Harry?” Snape asked.

“Oh, I don’t. Freaks like me don’t get Christmas lunch. I just get whatever is left on their plates when they are finished, which isn’t much seeing as the Dursley’s can eat for England.”

Snape looked at him, utterly bewildered, but Harry was on a roll so he wasn’t going to stop his explanations now.

“After Uncle Vernon’s punishment in the shed, I got some old rags to stop the bleeding. Even though I was in agony, I saw an opportunity and legged it out of the side gate and ran as far as I could. Then I sat on the kerb, twiddling my wand which I kept in my pocket. I had no idea what to do or where to go when suddenly,” Harry added animatedly, “out of nowhere this triple-decker bus arrived! I asked them to take me to Hogsmeade and I walked to Hogwarts from there. Didn’t quite make it to the castle though, so Hagrid carried me.” Harry explained.

Snape got to his feet, absolutely furious. “Those blasted muggles!” Snape bellowed, causing Harry to flinch. “I’ll be right back.” Snape spat before he stormed out of the door.

“What about our deal?!” Harry shouted after him.

However, Snape came right back, falling back into his chair with a piece of paper clutched in his hands.

“Right, this is your diagnostics report. I assume that I can attribute most of your injuries to your uncles…punishment.” Snape spat. “However, the incident you have just described to me doesn’t explain your severely burned hand, unless some of the gravy ended up on you of course, or your poorly healed fractured wrist. Would you care to enlighten me?” Snape pressed. 

“Oh, that.” Harry looked at Snape sheepishly. “The burn was when I spilt oil from the frying pain on it. My wrist was from…from the Quidditch match.” Harry winced waiting for the rant that was sure to come from his professor.

“What?! Why on Earth didn’t you go to the Hospital Wing, Harry?!” Snape asked, sounding furious.

“I couldn’t have a diagnostic spell then!” Harry shouted defensively. “Look what they would have found! My uncle would have killed me if I had said anything!”

Snape chose not to acknowledge Harry’s response and just continued. “This report also states malnutrition and poor growth and development but you don’t need to be a genius to figure out why that is.”

Snape ran his fingers through the length of his hair as he continued to glare at the diagnostic papers in disgust. Harry just laid there in silence for a while before Snape spoke again.

“I’m so sorry, Harry.” His Professor said, looking downtrodden.

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.” Harry replied matter-of-factly.

“It is. I am the one to blame. If I had known beforehand, you wouldn’t have even suffered that abuse.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know. I know that if you had known, you would have acted differently, that’s what’s important.” Harry said reassuringly. “Anyway, it’s not abuse. I’m a freak so I deserve it.”

Snape glared at him in utter discombobulation. “Harry, you cannot honestly believe that? Your family called you a freak because you are a wizard. Therefore, you are no more of a freak than I am. Do you believe I am a freak?”

“No, Sir.” Harry responded swiftly.

“Then you should not believe you are a freak either. No matter what stupid things a child can do, nothing warrants what you have experienced, Harry. It is straight up abuse.” Snape stated as he gently took Harry’s hand and gave it a light squeeze.

Harry returned the gesture before filling the awkward silence.“I guess. Anyway, the letter could have been fake, you may not be my father after all which would mean I’m not your problem.”

Snape gave a half-hearted smile and said, “Oh I would know your mothers writing anywhere. Besides, I took the opportunity for Madam Pomfrey to cast a Paternity Charm whilst you were out cold.” Snape added.

“You didn’t?!” Harry asked incredulously.

“Oh, but I did!” Snape replied, winking.

Harry laughed a little but then went deadly serious. “Look, don’t be afraid to say that you don’t want me as a son. I won’t be offended. I know I’m a useless freak and-“

“Don’t say that, Harry.” Snape butted in.” Of course I want you. You are my son, my own flesh and blood. You’ll just have to bear with me though, I only found out I was a father a few weeks ago and I never planned on having children. I’m not a particularly warm person if you hadn’t noticed.”

Ignoring the mans’ self depreciation, Harry continued. “You really mean it?”

“Yes, Harry, I mean it.” Snape replied with a hesitant smile. 

Harry grinned back at him, feeling even happier than he had been stepping into Hogwarts for the first time.

“Don’t worry” He said. “I haven’t been anyones son before so at least we are in the same boat.” Harry added sheepishly.

Snape smiled and gently patted Harry’s hand. “I just need to go and get a few supplies and then I will be back, okay?” Snape said after a few moments.

Harry nodded mutely as Snape made his way out of the door.

“Wait! Sir?!” Harry shouted, remembering something. 

The Professor poked his head back around the door. “No Harry, I won’t tell anyone.” Snape reassured him.

“No, not that!” Harry said. “Can you bring me a book to read or something? I am going to die of sheer boredom otherwise!”

“I will see what I can do.” Snape said, smirking as he exited the room once more.


	19. Healing Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All! I apologise for the delay, my sister, aka editor extraordinaire consultmeforcumberbatch, isn't very well. Yet, she has powered through and edited my chapters for me! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this instalment!

Snape returned around twenty minutes later, carrying a shopping bag and about eight books in his arms. He unceremoniously dropped the books at the foot of Harry’s bed before neatly stacking them on top of each other on his bedside table. As Snape was doing this, Harry noticed something and sighed.

“When I asked if you could bring me something to read, I meant a work of fiction, not my bloody textbooks!” 

“Language!” Snape reprimanded. “Well it pays to be ahead, and I’m sure you haven’t been able to complete your homework as of yet have you?”

“Are you serious? Does being beaten to a pulp not excuse me?!” Harry asked angrily.

“You are testing my patience, Harry. I only brought it with me in case you felt up to doing so, it is not advisable to fall behind.” The man said sternly, giving Harry a look that dared him to complain again.

Instead, Harry felt a little guilty. After all, Snape was only trying to look out for him and he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak. He apologised before he burst out.

“Wait! What about my trunk, it’s still at Privet Drive!”

“Yes, I did think about that. I will go and fetch it for you in the next day or two. That’s if you don’t think they have burnt it along with it’s contents? That seems something that the warthog would do!” Snape replied bitterly.

Harry giggled. “Nah, I don’t think they would. They’d probably be concerned that I had tainted it with my freakishness, so they won’t go near it.”

“I see.” Snape responded. “Anyway, enough about that, we can worry about that later. Now, I have been through my potion stores and have brought a couple of items with me to treat your wounds, if you will let me that is?”

“Depends what it is” said Harry, looking at Snape suspiciously.

“Well, there are quite a few but I will tell you what I am using before I administer it.”

“How very kind of you!” Harry said sarcastically, grinning at the Professor cheekily.

“Brat.” Snape said, offering Harry a small smirk as he arranged the potions on the bedside table. He then picked up one of the jars and addressed Harry.

“Let me see your left hand.” Snape ordered.

Harry gave the Professor his hand who closely inspected it, looking a little repulsed at the amount of residual scarring the burns had left.

“I am going to apply some burn-healing paste. If we apply it at regular intervals, it will significantly reduce the scarring until they have disappeared altogether. Is that alright?” Snape asked.

Harry nodded enthusiastically and his Professor started applying the paste liberally. He then used a bruise-removal paste on all of Harry’s bruises before screwing the lid back on the jar and placing it on his bedside table. 

“Now, Madam Pomfrey and I are yet to fully heal the deep gash on your back, which is why it is still bandaged at present. This is because the cut is very deep and after reflecting on what you said about not knowing what exactly caused the injury, I have decided not to seal it yet. The possibility of infection is too great and if I were to seal it with ‘Essence of Dittany’ and bacteria was still present in the cut, it would cause the bacteria to incubate in your system and could ultimately give you blood poisoning. Therefore, are we in agreement that we should hold off until the possibility of infection has passed?” Snape inquired, looking at Harry for confirmation.

“Yeah, that sounds like the best idea.” Harry replied, not really sure what his Professor was going on about but nodding nonetheless. 

“I can administer a Pain-relieving potion if the pain becomes unbearable, although it should only take a few days to determine whether infection will indeed set in.”

Harry nodded his understanding before Snape reached over. “I need to see your other hand, if I may?” The Professor asked.

Harry didn’t respond, instead, he just offered Snape his hand for him to scrutinise. He inspected it carefully, bending his wrist and each finger in turn before asking Harry to hold his outstretched hand steady. Harry tried to stop it but his hand shook uncontrollably. Snape then lifted his other hand and asked him to do the same thing, his left hand was steady as a rock. The Professor sighed before saying,

“It seems as though, having neglected your wrist fracture and continuing to use it, the bones could not fuse together properly. Hence, the poorly healed bones are resting against your nerves which is causing your hand to tremble. Luckily this can be fixed, although it will be rather painful.”

“Why, what will you have to do?” Harry asked with growing concern.

“I will need to cast a Deboning charm to remove the bones from your hand and forearm before using Skele-gro to make the bones grow back.” Snape replied matter-of-factly.

Harry gulped and nodded his head in compliance. He didn’t like to think about not having use of his dominant hand, nor did he like contemplating the fact that he wouldn’t have any bones in his right forearm and hand for at least twenty-four hours. Teaches him for leaving it he supposed.

————————————————————————————————————————

Snape stayed, trying to make conversation with Harry up until lunchtime, when Madam Pomfrey brought in his lunch. A ham and cheese sandwich, some ready salted crisps and a bowl of yoghurt and fruit for dessert. She set him up with his table and swiftly exited the room, leaving the pair alone once more. Snape stared at him intently as Harry made no move to touch the food. He then set a potion vial out in front of Harry.

“I’m not going to leave until you have eaten it all, do you understand?”

“Yeah” Harry groaned “What’s that for though?” He questioned, pointing to the potion.

“It’s a Nutrient potion, you are severely malnourished and so you need to take them alongside your meals until you are a healthy weight.” Snape explained.

“Honestly, it’s fine I can just-“

“This isn’t up for debate, Harry. Now, eat up.” The man instructed, turning his attention back to his book.

Harry sighed and started picking at his food. He was secretly glad that most of the food could be eaten with his hand and so he wouldn’t have to struggle holding any utensils for the entirety of the meal. Therefore, Harry finished the sandwich and crisps before pushing the tray away from him.

“What part of eating it all don’t you understand?” Snape queried, glaring at Harry intensely.

“I don’t like yoghurt.” Harry replied rather lamely.

“Oh really?” Snape sniggered “I have seen you eat it in the Great Hall almost every morning since you arrived.”

“Why were you spying on me?!”

“Don’t change the subject! Snape interrupted. “Now, why won’t you eat it?” 

“Urgh, if you must know, I can’t hold the bloody spoon without shaking like a rabbit caught in the headlights! Harry spat.

“I see.” Snape replied somewhat sympathetically. “Would you like me to get you something else?”

“Yes please.” Harry replied, looking down at his hands in shame.

Once Harry had finished his lunch and had taken the Nutrient Potion, Madam Pomfrey had vanished the bones in his hand and forearm, put his arm in a sling and gave him his first dose of Skele-gro. It tasted absolutely disgusting and Harry retched a few times before managing to swallow it. After making sure Harry was sorted, Snape dashed off to organise lesson plans for the upcoming term leaving Harry alone to read his textbooks. 

He was bored out of his mind. He had never been in bed for so long and he couldn’t stick it. Whilst doing the endless amount of chores that the Dursley’s set him was hard work at least he was somewhat occupied. Here he ended up counting the number of tiles on the ceiling.

When he started reading the same sentence over and over again, Harry decided to try and get up for a little walk around. Scooting over to the edge of the bed, he swung his legs over the side and slowly stood up. His legs weren’t as weak as they were that morning, obviously Snape’s treatments had helped, but he was still quite unsteady on his feet. Nevertheless, he hobbled over to the cubicle door hoping that being up and about would do him the world of good.

Harry then suddenly realised that he had no idea where he was. It was obvious he was still at Hogwarts but the castle was massive, he hadn’t seen every room by far. He poked his head around the door, looking left and right as if he were about to cross a road, and snuck out into the corridor. Despite his back twinging, he carried on down the corridor until he came to a spacious room. Huge windows covered the walls, allowing light to stream through the glass. There were approximately twelve beds lined up on each side of the room with only thin, light blue privacy screens separating them. Harry concluded that this must be the Hospital Wing, uncommonly empty due to the school closure. Why was the school closed anyway? Harry hadn’t heard any sounds of construction or maintenance. He snapped out of his thoughts when a woman behind him shrieked.

“Mr Potter! What on earth are you doing out of bed?!” Madam Pomfrey asked, accusingly.

Harry spun around, scared half to death. The Matron could be scary when she was angry.

“I was just having a little walk, you know, to stretch my legs.” Harry replied, shaking his legs out for emphasis.

“You are supposed to be resting, back to bed with you!” She ordered, hastily ushering Harry back into his cubicle. 

Harry sighed as he flopped down on the bed, hoping beyond hope that he would be discharged from the Hospital Wing tomorrow.


	20. Midnight Wanderings

Snape popped back to see Harry for dinner, most likely to ensure that Harry had indeed eaten everything on his plate and had taken his Nutrient Potion as instructed. He then left just after Harry’s second dose of Skele-Gro at nine-thirty to retire to the dungeons for the night. Not long after his father had left him, Harry removed his glasses and sank down into bed, hoping to fall asleep before the pain set in.

————————————————————————————————————————

_The darkness was all encompassing and the air was bitterly cold. Harry sat freezing out in the garden shed, praying for someone to find him. He rested his back against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest in an attempt to stop the shivers that racked his small frame._

_Suddenly, the shed door opened and light flooded the room. A foreboding figure loomed in the doorway, clutching something tightly in his meaty hands. It didn’t take him long to realise that it was his uncle._

_Despite Harry’s desperate cries of protest, the blows kept coming until he was a mere pile of flesh and bone. The man left and invited someone else to enter the room. This figure was cloaked in flowing, black robes and was rolling his sleeves up as if preparing for a fight._

_Striding over, Harry realised it was Professor Snape. He frantically pleaded for Snape to listen but he just ignored him and leant down, his face inches from Harry’s._

_“I can’t believe you fell for it, Potter!” He sneered, forcefully pushing a vial against Harry’s lips._

_The liquid trickled down his throat and the potion made him scream as he writhed on the floor in pain. Snape was grinning all the while, bending down to his level._

_“You are no son of mine!” He spat._

_————————————————————————————————————————_

With that, Harry sat bolt upright, his heart pounding and his breathing erratic. He peered into the darkness, feeling around for his glasses and shoved them on. Glancing over at the clock, he saw that it was three-thirty in the morning, nowhere near time to get up yet. Harry listened for a while but he didn’t hear Madam Pomfrey rushing down the corridor, so he was confident in the knowledge that he hadn’t screamed the place down this time. 

After his dream, Harry suddenly felt an urge to get out and he felt too enclosed by the tight, suffocating walls of his cubicle. He had an idea. Slowly getting out of bed, Harry silently opened the door leading out into the corridor, looking for any sign of Madam Pomfrey as he went. He quietly crept down the hall into the Hospital Wing and out of the double doors. As all the students, apart from Harry, were away for the Christmas break, there weren’t any teachers patrolling the halls, allowing Harry to take in his surroundings. Casting a quick ‘Lumos’ to help him navigate through the pitch blackness of the halls, Harry was taking in how beautiful, yet slightly spooky, the castle was in the dead of night. Pain was radiating out across his back and his arm was aching from the inside out, yet he knew he didn’t have much farther to go. He planned on going to the Astronomy Tower: his favourite place at Hogwarts. It was always so tranquil. He could gaze up at the stars or out over the lake and feel completely detached from reality. 

It was then that Harry encountered a problem. At this time of night, he couldn’t tell which door led to the Astronomy Tower. There were a few possibilities and he was terrified to try any of them should they lead into an unsuspecting professor’s quarters. 

After deliberating for long enough, Harry chose one of the doors, inching it forward slowly before peeking his head around the door frame. The room was full of stacked desks and random teaching equipment and so he silently closed the door behind him. 

Then suddenly, Harry heard movement behind him and spun his head around so quickly he cricked his neck. Living with the Dursley’s for so long had made Harry extremely perceptive of noises. He shrank into the shadows and waited for a few minutes, squinting into the darkness. Things were now deathly silent and Harry felt as though it was safe to move. 

Trying the next door, he peeked in and saw something incredibly strange. This room was rather small, it had no windows and no other furniture save something standing in the middle covered with a moth-eaten cloth. 

Looking over his shoulder nervously, Harry’s curiosity got the better of him and he stepped into the room, carefully closing the door behind him. Treading carefully, Harry crept over to the centre of the room to get a closer look at the covered object. It was rather tall and Harry had to crane his neck slightly to see the top of it. Cautiously, Harry grasped the edge of the cloth as if expecting alarms to sound when he touched it and started to unveil the object. It became somewhat difficult to remove the cloth once it had reached the middle seeing as one of his arms was out of action. Yet, after tugging it a few times, he managed to remove it. 

Chucking the cloth on the floor, Harry gazed up and felt rather underwhelmed. It was just a mirror. A beautiful mirror, but a mirror nonetheless. Sighing, Harry was about to cover the mirror back up when he jumped back in horror, clasping his hand over his mouth in shock. There, standing next to his own reflection was none other than his mother, green eyes glistening back at him. Out of instinct, Harry whipped around expecting to see her, but of course, she wasn’t there. 

Turning back to the mirror, he saw that his mother now had his arm around him and was rubbing his shoulder gently. A bittersweet smile spread over his face. What he wouldn’t give for his mother to be standing beside him right now. To be given comfort and to be loved unconditionally was something Harry desperately craved. 

After a short while, Harry prised himself away from the mirror, knowing it would become more difficult the longer he waited. He could get lost in the world that was within the mirror but Harry knew it was just a mirage. His mother was dead, it would do him no good to waste his time gazing at an impression of her.

Wiping a few stray tears from his eyes, Harry crept back out into the hall and finally managed to find the door to the Astronomy Tower. As he had done on Halloween night, Harry used ‘Incendio’ to light the candles before curling up on the dusty wooden floorboards, gazing out at the star speckled sky above him.

————————————————————————————————————————

_Severus jumped awake as he heard a distressed woman repeatedly shouting his name through the Floo network. Thinking the worst, he leapt out of bed, threw his dressing gown over himself and sprinted out into the living room. His heart sank when he realised that the voice was none other than a rather overwrought Madam Pomfrey’s, whom was asking him to come through to her office immediately._

_Stepping through the Floo into the Matron’s office, Severus was face to face with a frantic Madam Pomfrey._

_“Poppy, what’s going on?” Severus asked with growing concern._

_“It’s the boy, he’s gone. He isn’t in his room!”_

_Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Severus continued. “Are you sure he isn’t in the bathroom?”_

_“Yes of course, I am absolutely sure! I went into his room to give him his next dose of Skele-gro when I saw that he wasn’t in bed. I knocked on the bathroom door and, after I didn’t get an answer, I peeked in and he wasn’t there. Goodness, Severus, where do you think he is at this hour?” She asked, her face growing paler._

_He was silent for a moment, his hands against his forehead. The castle was huge, it would take the available staff hours to search for the boy. ’Think, Severus, think!’ He thought to himself when all of a sudden it dawned on him._

_“I think I know where he is. I will come back when I have collected him.” Severus declared before sweeping out of the office, not quite as gracefully seeing as he was still in his night robe._

_————————————————————————————————————————_

Harry’s eyes were rolling from pure exhaustion as he lie on the floor of the Astronomy Tower. The sound of the wind whistling through the open space relaxed him and he felt himself slowly drifting off. Therefore, he almost had a heart attack when a familiar voice broke the silence.

“Out for a little wander are we?” Snape asked, looking slightly annoyed.

Harry bolted upright as the Potions Master strode towards him. Harry flinched instinctively but the man merely sat down beside him on the aged wooden floorboards with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah. I planned to be back before anyone noticed I was gone though.” Harry mumbled. “What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same question.” Snape said, smirking at him. “I did not plan on being up at this hour. As it happens, I received a call from a rather panicked Madam Pomfrey. She came in to your room at four-thirty this morning to administer your next Skele-gro dose and saw that you were nowhere to be found.”

“Sorry.” Harry muttered sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to wake everyone else up. You can go back to your quarters now.”

“Nice try, but I am not that easy to get rid of. I’m not leaving until you are safely back in the Hospital Wing.” Snape declared. “Now, do you care to tell me why you are here, of all places, at four in the morning?”

Harry was still finding it difficult to trust Snape, yet he knew that the man wouldn’t drop the subject.

He sighed heavily. “Just had a nightmare, Sir. I felt trapped in my room so I came up here.”

“What was your nightmare about?” His Professor asked simply.

“I would rather not talk about it.” Harry replied plainly, wanting to end the conversation. 

“It will help if you discuss it with someone else.” Snape said, appearing to Harry that he himself knew the feeling all too well.

Harry looked at the Professor sceptically, unsure whether to give the man anymore information that could possibly be used against him. Snape seemed to notice he was uneasy and he continued.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Snape reassured him. “Though I would like to help you, if you will let me.”

Harry couldn’t help but feel guilty at being reluctant to confide in the man, his father no less. He was only trying to help but he just couldn’t confide in the man. Maybe if he just gave some half truths.

“It was just about my relatives, Sir. Just a memory, that’s all.” Harry assured the man.

He knew very well that Snape didn’t believe him but was grateful that he didn’t push the matter. 

“You also said that I was no son of yours.” Harry found himself saying without thinking and he quickly clasped his hands over his mouth.

Snape just gave him a confused look as stray tears slid down Harry’s face. He angrily wiped his tears away and the man gently rested his hand on his shoulder. 

“Sorry.” Harry murmured, looking away from the Professor. 

“Why are you sorry? It’s perfectly understandable for you to be upset.” Snape replied, looking at Harry.

“It’s stupid though. The situation’s been and gone, I shouldn’t still be hung up over it. Anyway, I don’t have to worry about them until I go back for the summer.”

“Being frightened isn’t stupid, Harry. Your Aunt and Uncle are sorry excuses for human beings. It was a traumatic experience, it is bound to impact you in more ways then one. You are unbelievably dense though!” His father exclaimed.

Harry shot the Professor a cold glare, not unlike his fathers. “Am not!” He snapped back before thinking better of it and scurried away, trying to put as much distance between himself and the man as possible.

“You will not be returning to the Dursley’s, Harry. We have discovered that I am a living relative, have we not?” Snape asked, slowly approaching him as if he were a frightened animal.

“Yeah I know, but you hate me and I know you wouldn’t want a useless freak like me anywhere near you.”

Snape just stared at him. “I don’t hate you, Harry. As I explained, my malevolence was misdirected. I formed an opinion of you based not on who you are, but who James was. I, thinking that he was your father, was going to assume you were just like him. You are not a useless freak, Harry. I understand if you choose not to forgive me but I want you to see that I am trying to help you. I will not send you back to those despicable creatures if it is the last thing I do. Do you understand?”

Harry stared at his father for a long time, not really sure what to say. The man seemed genuine in his admissions and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Clearly he and James didn’t get on well, how would anyone else have reacted if you thought the woman you loved dearly had left you for someone you hated?

Finally, he addressed Snape. “I forgive you.” Harry said quietly, seeing relief wash over his fathers face. “I just have trouble trusting people, I have been mislead too many times.” Harry admitted, quietly. 

“Thank you. I understand, Harry.” Snape replied sincerely.

Harry smiled up at him. He was so relieved that he wouldn’t have to return to the Dursley’s and the man seemed as though he genuinely wanted to have him around which was just unfathomable to him.

“Anyway.” Snape said as he clapped his hands together, bringing Harry out of his brooding. “We better get back to Madam Pomfrey before she sends the Aurors out.”

“Aurors?” Harry asked, slightly confused.

“Dark wizard catchers.” Snape said matter-of-factly.

“Oh…okay.” Harry replied sheepishly as Snape offered him a hand off of the floor and led him back to the Hospital Wing.


	21. Justice is Served

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Again! Another update for you all which is surprisingly on time! 
> 
> As always this story is edited by the wonderful consultmeforcumberbatch. 
> 
> I am delighted with the comments I have received on my previous chapters and I hope that these two don't disappoint!
> 
> Onwards my lovelies and I hope you enjoy!

Once the pair had arrived back at the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey came straight out of her office and cursed Harry for giving her such a fright. Snape promptly held up his hand to silence her before leading Harry back to bed.

“I will go and deal with Madam Pomfrey. Shout if you need anything” Snape said, lightly draping the covers over him.

Harry nodded back at him and adjusted himself on the bed to get a little more comfortable. He hated being back in the confinement of his cubicle, but he knew that it wouldn’t be forever. Surely the bones in his arm would grow back relatively quickly and he would be ready for the next school term. 

Glancing over at the clock, Harry noticed that it was almost six o’clock. He then grabbed one of his textbooks to read, waiting patiently for his father’s return. After his little escapade, Harry wasn’t feeling well at all, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on the problem.

Thankfully Madam Pomfrey was in a better mood when she came back in to see him. She proceeded to fuss over him, setting him up with his breakfast and his cocktail of potions before leaving them to it. Harry was sure that Snape must have had said something bitter to her about her reaction when they returned. She didn’t look at the man at all.

Harry had finished eating his breakfast by the time his father decided to say something.

“I am going to visit Privet Drive this morning to collect your trunk.” Snape deadpanned. “I am also going to persuade those imbeciles to sign guardianship over to me. Is that acceptable?”

“Yeah, course it is!” Harry exclaimed, nodding his head frantically. “Do I…do I have to go though?” He asked hesitantly.

“Absolutely not!” Snape replied before adding. “Unless you want to of course?”

“Nope. I’m good!” Harry said, feeling utterly relieved that he wouldn’t have to face his uncle.

“Very well, I will be back at around lunchtime. Try and get some rest whilst I am gone and please do not go wandering off and give Madam Pomfrey another heart attack.”

“Alright, I’ll stay here.” Harry muttered solemnly and, as if on cue, he yawned widely.

“Try and return in one piece.” Harry added before he flopped over onto his side.

“I will be fine. It’s the Muggles that won’t be all there.” Snape sneered.

Harry quickly spun around to respond. “Don’t hurt them too badly though, will you? If you do then we are no better than them.”

His father looked utterly dumbfounded but reluctantly nodded. “I will just leave them a little parting gift.” The man said winking, leaving the room before Harry could argue.

Harry settled down and jumped out of his skin when the door suddenly flew open again.

“Just so you know, Harry, I took the liberty of giving you some Dreamless-sleep this morning. Therefore you can rest, confident in the knowledge that you won’t have any nightmares.” Snape added, reassuringly.

Harry looked up at the monochromatic blob and smiled from ear to ear.

“Thanks.” He muttered sleepily as the man exited the room.

————————————————————————————————————————

_Severus' POV_

_Severus was fiercely determined as he strode out of Hogwarts’ gates to find a suitable location in which to apparate. Two minutes later, he was in an underground subway, heading out onto the deserted street. Severus was wearing his Muggle attire to avoid attracting the attention of the whole street, yet he still had his wand safely tucked in a holster up his sleeve just in case trouble occurred._

_After walking for several minutes, Severus looked up to see the immaculate property that was Number Four, Privet Drive. Despite it being winter, the garden was beautifully pruned, which he expected was due to Harry. He growled inwardly as he walked up the paved driveway and rapped lightly on the front door. It was the twenty-seventh of December so he was aware that the Dursley’s would still be at home for the festive period._

_Soon enough, the front door swung open to reveal a horse-faced woman. She always did look as if she were smelling something rotten and Severus recognised her instantly._

_“Good morning, Petunia. How lovely it is to see you again!” Severus exclaimed sarcastically._

_“You! Get away from my house, you freak!” Petunia snapped, attempting to the slam the door in his face, however Severus’ foot was already over the threshold._

_“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, Tuney. Either, you let me in without any arguments, or, I can blast the door off of its hinges for everyone to see. Your choice.” He spat, glaring at Petunia._

_Reluctantly, Petunia opened the door a crack just wide enough for Severus to slide through. He had already decided how he was going to go about this. He was going to mess with their heads, big time._

_“I’m simply here for Harry.” Severus said plainly. “Just let me take him with me and I will be out of your sight.”_

_He could see Petunia’s cheeks flush and he saw a wave of momentary panic wash over her. Severus was delighted that he had managed to erase her smug look._

_“Vernon!” She bellowed before skulking into the kitchen, most likely to seek refuge from her whale of a husband._

_Severus was waiting patiently when a huge, sweaty man came out of the living room and into the hallway where Severus stood. He knew exactly who it was and found it almost impossible not to hex the man into oblivion. When he read the expression on the mans face, he could see why a boy as small as Harry would be terrified of him. The mans hands alone were bigger than Harry’s face and his unwavering stare was enough to make anyone feel uncomfortable._

_“What are you doing here?!” Vernon shouted as if he were shouting to someone across the street, not someone that was standing in front of him. “Your kind aren’t welcome in my house!”_

_It took all of Severus’ control to remain passive as he glared at the man disapprovingly._

_“Like I said to your wife mere moments ago, I am simply here to collect Harry for school.” Snape sneered._

_Vernon just stared at him, his gaze steadfast. When the Potion’s Master didn’t receive an answer, he continued._

_“Harry is here, is he not?”_

_Surely the brute couldn’t avoid that direct question and after a moment or two, the man spat a response._

_“The ungrateful freak ran away on Christmas Day. We haven’t seen the boy since.”_

_“Oh dear.” Severus sighed dramatically. “Do you have any idea where he could be? Have you sent anyone out looking for him?” He asked, feigning concern._

_“Nah. The wretch always comes back.” Vernon sneered._

_Severus’ patience was wearing thin and he quickly dropped the act as he grabbed Vernon by the throat. He pushed him up against the wall with all the force he could muster before drawing his wand and holding it against the mans overly plump cheek._

_“Well he won’t be coming back this time, I can assure you.” Snape growled. “You will never lay a finger on that boy again, do you hear me? The state he arrived to me in was repulsive and if I see any sign of another injury from your hand, you will be in Azkaban Prison for the rest of your days. Is that clear?”_

_Vernon nodded frantically, looking visibly shaken which caused Severus to smirk.“Now, where are Harry’s things?” Snape demanded._

_The man didn’t respond, instead he just glanced towards something out of the corner of his eye. Severus followed the mans gaze and noticed a small cupboard under the stairs. Severus swiftly turned away from Vernon and knelt in front of the cupboard. He was disgusted to see that the cupboard door was fitted with a lock and he knew, from what Harry had told him, that he was frequently locked in the cupboard. Sometimes for days at a time. Upon opening the door, he immediately shrunk Harry’s trunk and tucked it safely into the inner pocket of his robes. He took in the rest of the scene and an overwhelming sadness washed over him. There were only a few things in the cupboard itself, including an extremely tattered pillow and a thin blanket, both of which were bloodstained. There was also a small shelf which was littered with broken toys and a collection of drawings hung above them, one reading ‘Harry’s Room.’  Severus couldn’t help but think of how different things would have been if he had know the boy was his son eleven years ago. Deep down he knew that Harry wouldn’t have been safe in his care, not with him being tied up with the Death Eaters. Though he wasn’t sure what would have been worse, growing up here or as a former Death Eaters son._

_Severus’ fury quickly returned and after retrieving the trunk, he slammed the cupboard door shut and stood nose to nose with the despicable Vernon. He then shoved a document into the mans hand and brandished a pen in front of him._

_“If you know what is good for you, you will sign this form to assign complete guardianship over to me. I am sure you will cooperate, knowing that I have ways of, lets say, persuading you.” Snape sneered, glaring at Vernon expectantly._

_Without any hesitation, Vernon signed the forms before calling Petunia and instructing her to sign._

_“Good riddance!” Vernon announced. “We’ll be glad to see the back of the useless freak!”_

_Before Severus could snap back at him, Petunia chimed in. “Why are you suddenly so interested in the freak?! Lily wouldn’t have wanted you anywhere near her son, not after what you did!” The woman shrieked._

_Lily’s name made Severus falter and he struggled to remain impassive. He simply peered over his shoulder at Petunia and uttered two, simple words._

_“Our Son.”_

_Severus silently wished he had a camera, the look on the woman’s face was priceless. Without hesitation, he yanked the form out of her hands and marched towards the door. However, just before he left, Severus felt as though something needed to be done. Without preamble, Severus spun around to face Vernon and punched him squarely on the nose with all the power he could muster. The man was jolted by the sudden force and slid down the wall before landing in a crumpled heap on the floor._

_“A parting gift from Harry!” Snape spat, swinging the door open with a flourish and slamming it closed behind him._

_————————————————————————————————————————_

Harry's POV

Harry was rudely awoken from his deep sleep by a rather forceful shake. Out of instinct, he sat bolt upright and shoved his glasses onto his face. He was relieved to see that it was only Madam Pomfrey.

“Here is your lunch, dear.” she said jovially, manoeuvring the tray over to Harry.

“Thank you. It looks lovely.” Harry replied as he looked down at the array of delicious food that was offered to him.

“This is your last dose of Skele-gro, Mr Potter.” she announced, as she poured some of the gelatinous liquid into a flask. “I will examine you arm at dinner time and if I feel you’re bones are acceptably healed, then I will be able to release you from the Hospital Wing.”

Harry looked up at the Matron quizzically. He had no idea where he was going to stay if he wasn’t remaining in the Hospital Wing. Although, as long as he wasn’t returning to the Dursley’s, he didn’t care and he would be glad to see the back of this cubicle.

“That’s great! Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.” Harry said, smiling up at the Matron.

“You’re very welcome, my dear. Give me a shout if you need anything, alright?” She said before strolling out of the room, gently closing the door behind her. 

As Harry tucked into his lunch, he couldn’t help but start to worry about Snape. He had been gone for most of the morning and he was concerned something might have gone amiss. Harry tried to dismiss these thoughts. Snape was a skilled wizard, a few Muggles, no matter how cruel they were, would surely be no match for him.

After finishing his lunch, Harry was studying his Defence Against the Dark Arts text when the door swung open to admit his father. Harry noticed he looked solemn and tired and alarm bells started ringing.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Harry asked with growing concern.

After a few moments, Snape pulled over his favourite chair and faced it towards him before sinking into it. Harry looked up at the man expectantly. 

“Harry. As you know I went to see those…creatures this morning and I was appalled. I have never witnessed someone living in such a confined space. I am so sorry, Harry. You should have never been treated like that.” His father said, looking forlorn. 

“Honestly, it’s fine. I know that you would have come for me had you known and anyway, I don’t ever have to go back thanks to you. That’s the best thing I could have ever hoped for.” Harry replied, smiling up at the man.

“Thank you, Harry. I really appreciate it. Now, those vermin signed the forms and so from now on, I am your guardian. You will of course need to sign these for them to become official.” Snape explained, waving the forms in front of Harry. “I will of course need consent from Professor Dumbledore also.”

Harry tensed, Professor Dumbledore will have to be told about the way the Dursley’s treated him. That was the last thing he wanted. The terror must have shown on his face as his father resumed stroking his hand.

“Harry, look at me.”

Harry reluctantly obliged and he was looking into the mans eyes.

“I trust Professor Dumbledore with my life. I wouldn’t even suggest telling him unless I felt that he would keep the information close to his chest.” 

“He won’t ever look at me the same way again.” Harry muttered, looking down and fiddling with his quilt. “He will think that I deserved it.”

“Harry, listen to me. Children who have suffered abuse are not at fault. Nothing a child would do could ever warrant someone physically punishing them. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded even though he had a hard time contemplating it.

“Good. Now, I think we should wait until after dinner so that you can sign these with your dominant hand. Then, if Madam Pomfrey lets you go, you can come and stay in the dungeons with me.”

Harry was utterly bemused, surely he hadn’t heard Snape correctly. “You… you’re really going to let me stay with you?” Harry queried shyly.

“Yes, of course. Only if you want to that is?” Snape asked.

“Yes! Yes, thank you!” Harry said, beaming. “Anyway, how did it go, was my stuff still there?”

“Indeed, your things were in one piece. I have placed your trunk in my quarters so that your things will be waiting for you when you are released from the Hospital Wing.”

“Cool, thanks.” Harry exclaimed, glancing downwards and catching a glimpse of Snape’s hand.

“What have you done to your hand?” Harry asked tentatively.

Harry noticed that his fathers knuckles were bright red and bruises were starting to form. Snape looked down at his hand and a small smile gracing his lips.

“Ah well, let’s just say that justice is served.” Snape said, looking immensely proud of himself. 

“You didn’t?!” Harry gasped, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, I did.” Snape confirmed, smirking at him.

Then Harry had an idea and he leant over the edge of his bed and lifted a jar off of his bedside table. He unscrewed the lid of the Bruise-removal paste and gently applied the salve to his fathers hand, fascinated as the bruises disappeared before his very eyes. Once he had finished, Harry smiled up at his father and set the jar aside. 


	22. A Bump in the Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed that there were quite a lot of changes in point of view in this instalment and so I hope it isn't too difficult to follow!

The rest of the day passed incredibly slowly as Harry waited for dinnertime to approach. Harry had insisted that Snape went back to his quarters to get some rest and so he was lying there alone, staring at the ceiling.

Dinnertime finally arrived and Madam Pomfrey strolled in. “Let’s have a look at that arm then, Mr Potter.” She announced, gently perching on the edge of Harry’s bed. 

Harry held out his arm and the Matron carefully removed the sling and started pressing his arm at various points before testing the mobility of his joints. As she was working, Harry glanced around to see his father standing in the doorway, watching Madam Pomfrey intently. The Matron then asked him to hold his hand out in front of him and to Harry’s amazement, it was completely steady.

“Excellent!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed.“You are free to go, young man!”

Harry couldn’t contain his excitement as he threw back the bed covers and leapt out of bed.

“Hold on, Harry.” His father said sternly, walking over to him. “You will still be unsteady on your feet so tread carefully.” The man advised, offering Harry his arm for support.

Then, after thanking Madam Pomfrey, the pair slowly made their way along the corridor and out through the double doors. Snape was right. Harry was still very unsteady on his feet and he was glad that he had his father’s arm to anchor him. 

Eventually, they had made it to the dungeons and walked through to Professor Snape’s office. Coming to a halt, Harry was standing and looking up at a stone brick wall utterly confused. His father then grabbed his hand and held it against one of the bricks in the wall.

“I’m adding your magical signature so that you can access my quarters at any time.” Snape explained.

Harry replied with a nod and looked on in wonder as an ornately carved wooden door with a brass handle appeared. They made their way inside and Harry found Snape’s quarters to be nothing like Harry had expected. He figured they would be grand, full of lavish furnishings and decorations, yet it wasn’t like that at all and the living area was surprisingly cosy. A raging fire was burning in the fireplace and was surrounded by a comfy plush settee and armchairs, a small wooden coffee table sitting in the centre of a finely woven rug. Of course the room was sporting Slytherin colours, the walls were painted a deep emerald green, accented by silver cushions which were arranged neatly across the furniture. 

“This is amazing!” Harry exclaimed, beaming up at his father as he took in the rest of the room.

“Come, I’ll show you to your room.” Snape said politely, returning Harry’s smile.

Harry was utterly awestruck as he was led into his room, he’d never had his own room before. It was a relatively small space, yet it held a massive four-poster bed with intricately embellished drapes cascading down it’s sides. There was also a compact wooden desk and chair over in the far corner of the room with filled bookshelves floating above it. There was also a cupboard, which was built into the wall and large drawers underneath the bed for storage. He didn’t think he would even fill one of the drawers let alone four of them and the cupboard space. 

As Harry was guided over to his bed, he noticed a door leading to a elegantly decorated en-suite bathroom. Snape gestured for Harry to sit on the bed before lighting the oil burner on his bedside table with his wand.

“This room is wonderful!” Harry said bursting with enthusiasm. “Thank you so much!”

“I’m glad you like it, Harry. Now, I am going to pay Professor Dumbledore a visit and I would like you to rest here until I return, only getting up if you have to use the facilities. If you should need me, use the fireplace in the living room to Floo-Call Professor Dumbledore’s office. Understood?” Snape questioned, glaring at Harry expectantly.

Harry reluctantly nodded and laid back in his bed, pulling the covers up over his chest, it was definitely more comfortable than his bed in the Hospital Wing. His father then leant down and plucked his glasses from his face and set them down on his night stand.

“I will be back soon.” His father promised as he left the room, leaving Harry’s door slightly ajar as he left. 

Harry was still feeling unwell but he put it down to the anxiety, knowing what Snape was discussing with Professor Dumbledore. He tried to calm down, squeezing his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to sleep.

————————————————————————————————————————

_ Severus' POV _

_Impatiently spitting out the retched password, Severus stormed up the stone staircase before knocking firmly on the Headmasters door._

_“Come in!” He heard, and he took the opportunity to stride through the door, straight up to the Headmaster’s desk._

_"Ah, Severus my boy. Please, sit down.” Dumbledore said, gesturing towards a chair in front of his desk._

_Severus ignored his offer and instead stood pacing the width of the office, resting his hands under his chin. He then firmly slammed the guardianship papers on the desk in front of the Headmaster._

_“These are guardianship forms, fully signed by Mister Harry Potter, his previous guardians and myself. I am requesting that you sign these forms so that Mr Potter can be placed into my care.” Severus spat, his glare unwavering._

_“Severus. I am glad that you are looking out for the boy, but unfortunately I am unable to do so. You see the bond of blood charm protects the boy from Voldemort and will be fully protected at his relatives when Voldemort inevitably returns. Therefore, for his own safety, he must remain with his Aunt and Uncle at Privet Drive.” Dumbledore explained._

_“You don’t know the half of it do you, Albus?” He muttered venomously. “Harry has begrudgingly informed me that the state that he arrived here in a few days ago was due to his great oaf of an uncle. Harry wasn’t even provided with a bedroom, he was forced to live in a cupboard under the stairs. He will not be going back there as long as I live.”_

_“Now, Severus…”_

_“No! Don’t 'now Severus’ me! I went there myself, Albus! I witnessed the appalling living conditions that Harry has been surviving in for ten years and I will not subject him to any more cruelty if it is the last thing I do!” Snape bellowed, his anger rising so much that he was making the walls of the office tremble with his accidental magic._

_“Severus, please calm down. From what you are telling me and from what I saw of the boy when he arrived here mere days ago, I understand that Harry’s relatives home is not an ideal place for the boy to be.”_

_“That’s the understatement of the year.” Severus muttered, childishly._

_“Yet,” Albus continued. “You know you cannot possibly care for the child, not when the work you do for The Order has you associating with Death Eaters.” Dumbledore reasoned._

_“Then I quit!” Severus bellowed. “I will not be sending the boy back to those vile creatures. He will live with me and that is final!”_

_“You know you very well that you can’t quit, Severus. If you do, when Voldemort does return, you will be the first on his kill list. You are of no use to the boy dead, or indeed, in Azkaban.”_

_“Well what do you expect me to do then?!”_

_“I’m not sure. I will need to think of an arrangement that will be suitable for Harry. It may be possible for us to find a wizarding family willing to take him in.” Albus suggested._

_“Absolutely not, he is staying with me!” Severus ordered._

_“Forgive me, Severus, but why are you suddenly so attached to the boy?” Albus questioned innocently._

_Without a word, Severus slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his robes and whipped out the handwritten letter from Lily and the DNA test results before placing them on the table in front of the Headmaster. Albus glared at him quizzically before proceeding to read the letter. The mans eyes grew wider and wider as he read through the literature and he looked up at Severus._

_“Congratulations, my boy.” Dumbledore merely stated._

_“No-one can know.” Severus stated firmly. “If I am to protect Harry then I must keep up the facade that I detest him.”_

_“Indeed, it is essential for the boys safety. I agree that he should live with you, Severus. The bond between a father and son is a very powerful one, yet I cannot hand these forms in to the Ministry. I would be putting both you and Harry in danger.” Albus paused and sighed. “I’m going to need time to think on this, Severus. Don’t worry, I will sort everything out.”_

_“Thank you. I appreciate it, Albus.” Severus replied._

_“Not at all.” Dumbledore replied with a casual wave of his hand. “Go and see to Harry and make sure he knows not to spread the word.”_

_“Of course. Goodnight, Albus.” Snape said politely as he retrieved the letter from the Headmaster’s desk and made his way back down to the dungeons._

_————————————————————————————————————————_

Harry's POV

Harry awoke with a start, sweating profusely. So much so that his pyjamas were stuck to his body. He was shaking as he reached out for his glasses and he was feeling very lightheaded as he attempted to manoeuvre himself out of bed. Feeling incredibly nauseous, Harry stumbled out into the living room, slowly making his way over to the fireplace to Floo-Call his father. That’s when it dawned on him that he had no idea how to do it. Just as Harry was beginning to panic, the door opened and in stepped Snape.

“Sev’rus?” Harry muttered quietly.

“Harry? Harry, what’s wrong?” Snape asked, sounding alarmed as Harry’s world faded to black.

————————————————————————————————————————

Harry awoke reclined on the sofa, a cool flannel lying across his forehead. He went to sit up before a hand pushed him back towards the sofa. 

“What happened?” Harry mumbled, dazed and confused.

“You passed out. Are you feeling unwell?” A familiar voice spoke.

Harry nodded, the movement causing a sudden wave of nausea and his head to pound.

“I think-I’m going to be sick.” Harry muttered before promptly leaning over the edge of the sofa and vomiting all over the floor.

“S-sorry.” Harry apologised, laying his head back down against a cushion.

He could make out his fathers disgusted face as he vanished the vomit with a wave of his wand and cast a freshening charm. Then surprisingly, Harry felt his fathers hand stroking his head before he spoke again.

“Now, what’s causing you pain?” Snape asked.

“I just feel really sweaty, but shivery at the same time. I have a headache and I feel really sick.” Harry replied, trying not to open his mouth too much, fearing that he would vomit again if he did.

“I see, let me take a look at your back. It may be that your wound is indeed infected.”

Harry slowly turned over onto his side whilst his father carefully lifted his pyjama top to examine his back.

“For Merlin’s sake, Harry!” Severus grumbled. “Your back is in a right state! How long have you been feeling unwell?”

“Um…since this morning.” Harry mumbled.

“Hmm, did you not think it prudent to let me know?”

“I-I guess I’m just used to dealing with things on my own.” Harry said sheepishly.

“Well that stops right now, young man!” Snape said as he whisked out of the room and returned with an armful of potions.

“Right, I am going to give you fever and pain-reducing potions before I clean your wound and apply some strong antibiotic cream to your back.”

Harry silently complied and sat up slightly so that he could drink the potions that his father offered him, hoping that they wouldn’t make a reappearance. Then, Harry carefully removed his pyjama top and turned to face the sofa cushions.

“Now, because you have left it to fester, the wound is weeping and there is a lot of pus, therefore it is likely to sting a lot when I clean it and apply the cream.” Snape explained, resting his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” Harry mumbled, anticipating the pain that was bound to come.

As soon as the cloth touched his skin, Harry winced and arched his back away from Severus. His father then offered him his other hand for Harry to hold and he gripped it tightly whilst his wound was cleaned and the antibiotic substance was administered. 

Despite it being very painful when the cream was applied, Harry’s back was now beginning to feel numb and he felt lethargic all of a sudden. Swiftly, he felt himself being carefully lifted from the sofa and carried into his bedroom. Severus set him down gently on the bed and removed his glasses before tucking him in.

Harry tried desperately to pry his eyes open as Severus pulled the covers over him.

“Hush. Go to sleep now.” The man said, heading towards the doorway. “Goodnight, Harry.” 

“Goodnight, Dad.” Harry whispered as he entered the land of nod. 

————————————————————————————————————————

_Severus' POV_

_Severus’ heart just lodged itself in his throat as he stood stock still, staring at the little boy curled up in bed. The boy that had just called him ‘Dad,’ a title he never imagined himself earning._

_Closing the door softly, he summoned his forgotten tea and cast a warming charm on it before sipping it slowly. He sat and puzzled over Harry’s choice to call him ‘Dad’ before he decided that it must have been a mistake. The boy was exhausted and therefore had probably said it by accident._

_He kept repeating this to himself as he settled down for the night._


	23. Taking Risks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Again! Surprise, surprise my update is late! I ended up at the emergency doctors last weekend and had to return today for a mild head injury. Thankfully I am on the mend now! I am going to upload one chapter tonight but will endeavour to upload the second one tomorrow. Thank you for your patience! 
> 
> Special thanks to consultmeforcumberbatch for editing this story.
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support of my story! 💖

Harry’s POV

Harry awoke early that morning, shimmied out of bed and pulled on his pyjama top. Yawning and rubbing his eyes sleepily, he went to make his bed when he realised something. Last night he had called Severus, Dad. How could he have been so stupid?! Of course the man wouldn’t want him calling him Dad, he had only taken him in because it was his responsibility. Harry felt his cheeks flush knowing that he had to face the man this morning. 

Hobbling out of his bedroom door and into the living room, he saw that Snape was nowhere to be found. He walked along the hall until he came to a cosy looking kitchen and dining area where the man in question was sitting at a small, round wooden table, contentedly drinking a coffee and perusing the Daily Prophet.

“Morning, Sir.” Harry said softly, the man lowering the paper to look at him in response.

“Good morning, Harry.” Snape replied politely. “And for God’s sake call me Severus. We aren’t in the classroom and so there is no need to use formal address. 

Harry nodded silently in response, he knew that he wouldn’t want him calling him Dad.

“Okay but, can I call you Sev instead? Severus is too long.” Harry replied truthfully, looking down at his bare feet and hoping he hadn’t overstepped the mark. 

Severus chuckled slightly and tried to hide behind the paper.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked, cringing with embarrassment.

Snape removed the paper from in front of his face and smirked at him. “Funnily enough, your mother said the same thing when she was your age.” The man admitted with a wistful look.

“Really?” Harry asked innocently, feeling a smile creep onto his face.

“Really.” Severus confirmed. “Your mother was the only person I let give me a nickname…but I suppose she is a part of you and so yes, you may call me Sev.”

Harry beamed up at the man, glad that he didn’t seem angry about his slip-up last night.

So, how is your back this morning?” Severus enquired.

“Yeah it’s much better, thanks.” Harry replied honestly.

“I’m glad to hear it. Are you hungry?”

Harry nodded sheepishly. Severus got to his feet when Harry stopped him.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll get it.” He insisted, ready to dart towards the kitchen to start fixing breakfast for them both. 

“Sit.” Snape said sternly. “You are in no way expected to wait on me hand and foot like you did at your incompetent relatives. I will simply send a message down to the kitchen’s to arrange breakfast.”

Harry was going to argue but then thought better of it and decided to slump down in one of the dining chairs instead. Within a few moments, his father was walking over to him with some buttered toast and a goblet full of pumpkin juice.

“I thought it would be best for you to try something plain this morning, given that you vomited last night.” Snape explained.

Nodding, Harry thanked Severus and began nibbling on his toast silently whilst his father continued to read the paper. After finishing his toast, Harry sat at the table waiting patiently for Severus, who then finally folded his paper and set it down on the table.

“Come here, Harry.” The man ordered. “Let’s have a look at your back.”

Harry obeyed and took his pyjama top off as he walked towards Severus. After inspecting his wound for a few minutes, Harry was told to stay put whilst his father went to grab something out of his potion stores. He returned with a tiny bottle and a pipette.

“This is Essence of Dittany.” His father explained, holding said item for him to see.“It will seal the wound on your back.”

“Okay.” Harry replied, as he followed Snape into the sitting room and laid face down across the sofa, not unlike he had the night before.

“This may sting a little. Though it shouldn’t be as painful as the cream I applied last night.”

“Okay.” Harry mumbled against the cushion he had his face smushed up against.

Once he was all healed, Harry announced that he was going to have a shower to freshen up and Severus offered to set some clothes out ready for his return. 

Arriving back into his bedroom, a towel tied neatly around his waist, he encountered Snape sitting on the edge of his bed looking rather melancholy. 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked worriedly. “Is it because I used the hot water?"

“Are you telling me…never mind.” The man trailed off. “Of course you can use the hot water. Are these all the clothes you have?” His father asked him, pointing to a thin pile of clothing that was now stacked on the bed.

“Yeah, they don’t really fit that well though.” Harry admitted, “They are all hand-me-downs from Dudley and he’s like, twice the size of me. That’s why I tend to wear my uniform at the weekend.” Harry replied casually.

“Blasted Muggles!” Snape spat, making Harry jump slightly.“Okay, well that is something that we can rectify this week. For now, I will ask one of the house elves to bring you some school pyjamas.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry! I’ll just wear my uniform.” Harry insisted.

“You certainly will not. We will take a trip into Diagon Alley and get you some things.”

“Honestly, don’t. It will cost a lot of money and you-“

“Hush, my decision is final.” His father interrupted. “I will be back with your pyjamas shortly.” The man said, sweeping out of the room.

A moment or two later, Snape reappeared with clean pyjamas in hand and requested for Harry to meet him in the living room when he was ready. Harry was anxious to find out what his father wanted and so he carelessly threw on his pyjamas and sped out of the room. Snape was sitting in his armchair waiting for him when he gestured for Harry to sit down in the armchair opposite him. Harry obeyed and perched on the very edge of his seat, nervously waiting for the man to start talking. 

“Harry, I need to talk to you about my discussion with Dumbledore-“

“He said no didn’t he.” Harry butted in. “I have to go back.”

“No, you won’t be going back I can assure you.” Snape replied evenly. “There is just a slight problem with me becoming your guardian.”

Harry just stared at his father, worried about what he would say next. 

“I have to be honest with you, Harry. I’m not just a Potion’s Professor. I work for Professor Dumbledore and relay him information from the opposing side.” Snape admitted.

“Is this what Mum was talking about in her letter…about ‘The Greater Good’?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Harry. I feign allegiance to the Dark Lord so that I can keep Professor Dumbledore informed should trouble occur.”

“So, like a spy?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Exactly.” Snape responded.

“Okay. Well, what’s that got to do with me living with you?”  

“Everything. You see, Harry, I cannot become your legal guardian. In order for guardianship to be approved, the paperwork must be sent to the Ministry of Magic. This would put us both in grave danger as I don’t think the Dark Lord, should he return, would take me becoming the father of ‘The Boy Who Lived’ very lightly now, would he?”

“I guess not.” Harry replied solemnly. “I guess I will go and pack my things then.”

“What are you talking about, Harry?” Snape questioned, seeming confused.

“Well I can’t stay here can I?! Harry exclaimed, rising from his chair and heading for his bedroom. “I’m not going to put you in danger by staying with you. I will just have to find someone else.” 

Before he could leave the room, his father grabbed Harry’s wrist and he whipped his head around slightly panicked. However, Severus merely turned Harry around to face him.

“You aren’t going anywhere, Harry. I was just trying to tell you how important it is that we  keep this a secret. Nobody can know, otherwise my cover will be blown and I will be as good as dead.” Snape said, matter-of-factly.

“There is no way we can do this, it is far too dangerous. Your life is not something I am willing to risk.” Harry responded looking up at his father, tears prickling behind his eyes.

“It is worth the risk.” his father stated, lightly patting Harry’s shoulder.

Harry smiled back up at him.“I’m guessing that means we have to go back to hating each other when term starts?” Harry asked grumpily.

“Regrettably, yes. Teaching children of Death Eaters means I will need to keep up the persona. However I will meet with you on a weekly basis and you can come to my quarters anytime, day or night, should you need me. Alright?” Snape questioned.

“Okay. Just one question. Who will be my ‘official’ guardian?” Harry enquired, making an air quotes gesture.

“Good question. I have left that in Dumbledore’s capable hands.” 

“Alright.”

“Come on then, fancy a game of chess?” His father asked, digging out his well-loved and battered chess set.

“Yeah, alright then.” Harry replied, sitting at one end of the coffee table, knowing from the offset that he was never going to win.


	24. To Many More Happy Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is the next chapter! Just a word of warning, I probably won't be uploading this weekend as it is my birthday, but next week I will hopefully return to my usual schedule!
> 
> Onwards my dears!

The rest of the Christmas break went far too quickly for Harry’s liking and he was disappointed when he had to transfer all of his things from Snape’s quarters back into the Slytherin dormitory. Harry’s festive break turned from a dreadful experience into one that he’d dreamt about for years. He got to know his father a bit more throughout the time they spent together and grew closer. He hated knowing that he would have to pretend to hate him when he was in others company.

During the holiday, Harry and his father took a trip to Diagon Alley to get him some new clothes, both Wizard and Muggle attire. Harry also discovered that he had an inheritance safely sealed in a vault at Gringott’s Wizarding Bank, therefore he insisted on paying for some of the items that he picked up himself. Also, Snape had surprised him one evening before New Year, setting up a belated Christmas dinner for them both, including Christmas Crackers filled with cheesy jokes. It was hilarious to witness such a usually stern man reading a crappy joke, it made Harry suspicious that he had only organised the affair for him. It was the best feeling in the world for Harry, knowing that someone was there for him whenever he needed them, even if it was extremely foreign to him. He had also succeeded at not accidentally calling the man, Dad. 

The arrival of the rest of the students had come around and Harry had arranged to accompany Hagrid down to Hogsmeade to meet his friends as they disembarked the train. Returning to Hogsmeade since his impromptu visit on Christmas Day was bittersweet for Harry. It reminded him of how he arrived here, but also the beginning of a new way of life. Harry didn’t have long to stew on these thoughts as the train arrived at the station, it’s passengers filing out. A jet of white-blonde hair caught Harry’s attention and he knew straight away that it was Draco. Harry rushed forwards until he was standing behind his friend and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. Draco whizzed around before pulling Harry into a one-armed hug.

“Harry! There you are! Where were you? I thought I may have put you off coming back to Hogwarts! Did you have a good Christmas?” Draco asked, reeling with excitement.

“No!” Harry laughed. “I had a great Christmas, what about you?” He said, deciding to overlook Draco’s question of his whereabouts.

“Yeah it was alright. My lot are miserable at Christmas. You walk in the room and they act like someone just died!”

Harry burst out laughing, imagining Draco’s father on Christmas Day. He definitely didn’t seem the type to wear an ugly Christmas jumper that’s for sure. Harry was overjoyed seeing his friend again and was immensely grateful that Draco hadn’t been persistent in finding out why he was already at Hogwarts. Then suddenly, over on the other side of the platform, he saw a bush of curly hair that could only belong to one person. He told Draco he would be back and went over to see Hermione. Harry was several feet away when Hermione looked up and noticed him. She came bounding towards him and threw her arms around his neck.

“Harry! Oh it’s so good to see you! How are you?” Hermione asked, squeezing him tightly.

“It’s good to see you too! I’m great! Did you have a nice Christmas?” Harry asked his friend, smiling at her enthusiasm.

“Yes, thank you. We had a lovely quiet Christmas, just the three of us. Most of my extended family were in the French Alps!” She said excitedly.

Hagrid then interrupted their conversation and led them over to a cobbled path which had rows upon rows of carriages arranged like soldiers on the frontline. Harry was flabbergasted when he saw that the carriages appeared to be pulling themselves. He was a little creeped out by it, yet it certainly beat taking the hike back up to the castle on foot in the freezing cold. 

Bidding Hermione farewell, he ambled over to Draco who was waiting for him by one of the many carriages.

Arriving safely back at Hogwarts, both Harry and Draco took their seats and awaited the second beginning of term feast of the year. Harry chanced a glance up at his father who was sitting with his colleagues at the head table. Snape sneered at him, yet Harry could see the man he knew lurking behind his expression and he couldn’t help but smirk. 

————————————————————————————————————————

The next day, after his morning lessons, Harry made his way to Professor Dumbledore’s office. There was something that he needed to ask the Headmaster and so he decided to pay him a visit during his free study periods. Upon receiving the password from Professor McGonagall, Harry arrived at the ominous doorway and was extremely nervous about seeing the Headmaster. It was the first time Harry himself had been to see him since his father had informed him about his relatives. He took a deep breath and, mustering up the courage, gently knocked on the door before being told to enter.

“Harry, my boy! What can I do for you?” Professor Dumbledore asked jovially 

“Hello, Professor Dumbledore. I was just wondering if I could ask you something, Sir?” Harry said hesitantly.

“Of course, my boy. Have a seat.” The Headmaster said, gesturing towards one of the armchairs.

Harry carefully perched on one of the chairs in front of the Headmasters desk and began his question. 

“I was wondering whether you may be able to help me? It’s nothing serious!” he added after seeing Dumbledore’s concerned look. “It’s just it’s Sev’s birthday on Thursday and I wanted to get him something. I have seen what I would like to get him on owl order and I didn’t know whether I could send his gift to you instead of me?” Harry asked looking down at his hands. “I have the money and everything, I just know that he will be suspicious if I receive a package. He knows that I never receive owl post, Sir.”

It took a while for the Headmaster to reply and he was making Harry feel slightly uncomfortable as he just sat in his chair, smiling down at him.

“That is very thoughtful of you, Harry. I would be more than happy to help you. Do you have an order form?” Dumbledore queried.

“Yes, I have it all written out ready to go. I have the money with me too.” Harry assured the Headmaster, delving into his pocket and setting five galleons, twelve sickles and a knut on the mans desk, along with the order form. 

“Very well. I will send that off later today and send a message to you once it has arrived.”

“Thank you, Sir. I really appreciate it.” Harry said, turning to leave.

“One moment, Harry. Whilst you are here, I wanted to talk to you about another matter.” Dumbledore added before he could escape.

Harry had a huge lump in his throat. The Headmaster was surely going to bring up his relatives. He thought he had gotten away with it. Evidently not. Once again, Harry lowered himself into the chair and looked at Professor Dumbledore expectantly whilst trying to conceal his nerves.

“As you know, Harry, I have been looking into finding you a legal guardian. Now, as you will remain with you father, I am reluctant to enlist the help of another wizarding family, just incase our secret is exposed. Therefore, I have been thinking about putting myself forward as your legal guardian, if you felt comfortable with that arrangement of course?” Dumbledore asked.

“That would be brilliant, Sir! Only if you don’t mind?” Harry asked, his mood lifting significantly.

“Of course, Harry. I would be more than happy to do so. If you could collect your father and come back here at seven o’clock we can sign the forms.”

“Thank you, Headmaster. It means so much.” Harry replied sincerely.

“You’re welcome, Harry. I will see you later.”

“Okay. Goodbye, Sir!” Harry exclaimed, waving as he exited the office and practically skipped down the stairs.

————————————————————————————————————————

After dinner, at around six-thirty, Harry noticed Severus strolling out of the Great Hall. Waiting for ten minutes or so, Harry excused himself from the table and wandered down to Snape’s office, knocking on the door lightly before hearing his father’s drone to enter.

Harry peeked his head around the door to see the professor marking at his desk. He walked into the room, closing the door softly and turned around to see the man smirking at him.

“Missing me already, are you?” Snape asked sarcastically as Harry strolled over to his desk.

Harry chuckled lightly. “Yes, but that isn’t why I’m here. Professor Dumbledore wants to see us both in his office at seven o’clock.”

Snape raised his eyebrows and looked at Harry suspiciously. “Have you gotten yourself in trouble already?”

“No!” Harry said defensively. “It is about the guardianship papers. The Headmaster has offered to be my legal guardian and he would like your approval.”

“Really?” His father asked, seeming a little skeptical.

“Really, really!” Harry replied with a wink.

“Very well. I will escort you to the Headmaster’s office, Potter.” Snape spat, winking at Harry as they made their way out of the door and up to Dumbledore’s office.

————————————————————————————————————————

It wasn’t until lunchtime on Wednesday that Harry finally heard from Professor Dumbledore. One of the older Slytherin students handed a note to Harry in the Great Hall which simply read.

_It has arrived._

Harry glanced around the hall and noticed that the Headmaster wasn’t there, although, his father was. Tucking the note into his pocket, Harry tried not to draw attention to himself and casually continued eating his lunch. After a few minutes had passed, Harry gesticulated that he was going to the library, looking out of the corner of his eye to make sure that his father saw him. Harry then strolled out of the Great Hall, until he was out of sight, before sprinting to Dumbledore’s office.

When Harry arrived, the Headmaster was sitting behind his desk, twiddling his thumbs, almost as if he expected Harry would come to see him instantly. Thanking the Headmaster, Harry took the package from him and tucked it under his arm, concealing it beneath his robes. Just before he could leave however, Harry had one more thing to ask.

“Professor Dumbledore?” Harry said shyly, “May I ask you something?”

“Yes, my boy. What is on your mind?” Dumbledore replied, looking slightly worried.

“Oh, it’s nothing urgent, I just wondered where I could find some ingredients to make a cake, Sir?” Harry asked sheepishly.

“Ah, the House-Elves would be more than happy to bake a cake for Severus, if that is what you wish?”

“Well…I kind of wanted to make it myself. You see, I enjoy making cakes and I wanted it to be personal, Sir.”

“That’s very kind of you, Harry. Are you going to see Severus tomorrow?”

“Yes. We are having our usual Friday evening meeting tomorrow instead, seeing as it’s Sev’s birthday. He warned me that he has to oversee detention until six, so I have a couple of hours before he meets me for dinner, Sir.” Harry explained.

“I see, hold on a moment,” Dumbledore said. 

“Bobby!” The Headmaster bellowed, as a house-elf popped into the room, startling Harry.

“Yes, Master Dumbledore, Sir,” The elf said bowing so low that his head almost grazed the floor.

“This is Harry Potter.” Dumbledore said, patting Harry on the shoulder, “Tomorrow evening, he will be making a cake. When he calls you, I would like you to get him anything he requires.”

“Of course, Master Dumbledore, Sir. Bobby will be most happy to help Master’s friend, Harry Potter.”

“Thank you, Bobby, you may go now.” 

With another pop, the elf was gone, leaving Harry astonished.

“There, that’s all sorted now. Just call out Bobby’s name when you get to your father’s quarters and he will bring you what you need. Is that alright?”

“That’s perfect! Thank you, Sir!” Harry replied beaming.

“You’re welcome, Harry. Good luck!” Dumbledore said, smiling.

“Thank you, Sir.” Harry said, waving to the Headmaster as he left to safely hide his father’s present in his trunk. 

————————————————————————————————————————

Classes had ended for the day and Harry was making his way to the library. Along with Snape’s present, Harry had ordered a birthday card, which he was going to write out in the corner of the library. He decided to send Snape the card along with the owl post in the morning, just so his father would know that he hadn’t forgotten his birthday. Harry was about to put ink to parchment when he realised that he didn’t have a clue what he was going to write. Harry wanted it to be personal, but not write anything too soppy and gag worthy. After deliberating for an hour, Harry was finally content with what he had written.

_Dear Sev,_

_Happy Birthday! I hope you have a great day, despite you having to teach us ‘Dunderheads’ this morning!_

_This feels really strange, writing the first birthday card to my father at eleven years of age. For so long I had thought that my father was dead and so to be here, writing you this card, feels so surreal._

_Thank you for everything you have done for me over the last couple of weeks, I am incredibly thankful. I don’t know where I would be without you, probably on the side of the road somewhere! For the first time ever, I feel like somebody cares and that’s amazing._

_I hope that I can make you proud and be the son that you and Mum would have wanted me to be._

_Here’s to many more happy memories to come!_

_With love from,_

_Harry xx_


	25. Severus' Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All! I'm back with another update, (late again!), and I am now officially out of my teens! 
> 
> As always, this story is edited by my wonderful sister, consultmeforcumberbatch.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this instalment!

Harry’s stomach was doing somersaults as he made his way down to breakfast that morning with Draco. He tried his best to hide the fact that his stomach was churning, casually walking in and taking his usual seat at the Slytherin table. Harry chanced a glance up at the Head table and witnessed his father conversing with Professor McGonagall, rolling his eyes at her. Trying to conceal a giggle, Harry then looked up to see the owls beginning to circle the hall. Holding his breath in anticipation, Harry saw a tawny owl dive down towards Snape, landing unceremoniously in his bowl of porridge. Harry flushed with embarrassment and flopped his head down on the table.

“Are you alright, Harry?” He heard Draco ask.

“Yeah I’m fine, just tired.” Harry lied smoothly, looking at Severus from out of the corner of his eye.

His heart was racing and he felt an overwhelming urge to be sick as he watched Snape delicately open the envelope. Luckily, he didn’t seem too annoyed that the owl had completely ruined his breakfast, and so Harry continued to watch him as his fathers eyes darted across the card. The Professor showed absolutely no emotion, as Harry had expected seeing as they were sitting in the Great Hall, yet his father’s eyes briefly met his own and Harry smiled. Snape inconspicuously mouthed ‘Thank you’ and Harry replied with a small nod of understanding. The next thing he knew, Professor Dumbledore was walking up behind Snape, resting his hand on his shoulder and looking down at Harry’s card. The Headmaster then gazed up at him smiling widely, making Harry blush.

————————————————————————————————————————

Harry walked to his potions lesson that morning with an unusual spring in his step. Once they had arrived, both boys took their seats and Harry was grinning from ear to ear.

“What are you so happy about, Potter? Had another meeting with your fan club?” Snape sneered.

Harry knew that it was just an act, yet he couldn’t help but take the comment personally, especially with Blaise Zabini sniggering at him from the corner.

“No, Sir. I’m just having a good day so far, that’s all.” Harry replied politely. 

“Well, I’m sure I can change that.” Snape spat before addressing the rest of the class, “Turn to page 54 and start making notes on the ‘Cure for Boils’ potion. No talking!”

The rest of Snape’s lesson dragged. They didn’t participate in any practical work and so they were tediously making notes from passages in their text book. Harry had been called out several times for ‘making a noise’, even though he was only shifting his position on the extremely uncomfortable stool. When the rest of the class began to pack up, Snape swept over towards Harry to scrutinise his notes.

“Class dismissed!” He called, “Potter, stay behind. Those notes are atrocious.”

Harry feigned a sigh and he convinced Draco to carry on to History of Magic as he approached his fathers desk. Snape slammed and locked the door with a wave of his wand before walking over to Harry and patting his shoulder.

“Thank you for your card, Harry.” 

“You’re welcome.” Harry replied, grinning up at the man.

“Carry on to your next lesson, I will see you at six, alright?” 

“Yes, Professor,” Harry responded with a wink as Severus jokingly shoved him out the door.

————————————————————————————————————————

The afternoons Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson dragged on as always. Harry’s headaches seemed to be getting worse the more time he spent confined in Quirrell’s classroom. He was completely dejected and couldn’t keep up with anything that his Professor was saying, which resulted in a few worried looks from Hermione. When the lesson finally drew to a close, Harry with his still throbbing headache, sneakily made his way down to his fathers quarters. He could still hear Snape lecturing his fifth-year class and so Harry creeped through the Potion Master’s office and slipped into the mans’ living quarters. 

Not wanting to waste any time, Harry strolled into the kitchen, carelessly dumping his rucksack in the corner of the room before calling Bobby the house-elf. He felt absolutely ridiculous calling for someone that wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity.

“Bobby?” Harry muttered skeptically and, within a second, the elf was in the kitchen.

“Yes, Master Potter, Sir.” Bobby said, bowing.

“Please, call me Harry.” He insisted.

“Yes, Master Harry, Sir.”

Harry rolled his eyes at the elves insistence on calling him ‘Master’.“Um, would you be able to get me some ingredients to make a coffee and walnut cake please? Oh, and some icing and things for decoration would be great!”

“Right away, Master Harry, Sir.” The elf said before he disappeared.

Bobby made a few trips back and forth with the ingredients before neatly arranging them on the kitchen counter. 

“Is there anything else I can get you, Master Harry, Sir?”

“I don’t think so.” Harry said, checking that he had everything. “Wait!” He called before Bobby disappeared. “I’m going to need candles for the cake.”

Once Bobby had reappeared with the candles, Harry thanked him, and the elf vanished. Harry quickly set to work on the cakes, allowing himself enough time for them to bake and cool before decorating. Whilst the cakes were in the oven, Harry ran along the corridor and into the boys dormitory, to grab his father’s present, before sprinting back to Snape’s quarters, making sure no-one saw him as he slipped through Snape’s office door.

When the cakes were finally baked and cooled, Harry set upon the task of decorating them. For a while, Harry couldn’t decide how to decorate it. After all, he had minimal knowledge of the mans interests and hobbies, besides potions of course. Spending fifteen minutes or so deliberating, Harry eventually decided on creating the effect of a spilled potion vial, with it’s contents cascading down the side of the cake. He started by covering the cakes with a layer of buttercream before carefully smoothing white royal icing over the top. Next, he began to assemble the three tier cake, making sure that the wooden doweling was inserted correctly so his creation wouldn’t topple over. Lastly, Harry moulded a potion vial out of icing, delicately painting it with food-dyes before positioning it on the top tier of the cake. Finally, Harry made a water icing and dyed it green, before pouring it down one side of the cake.

Clearing away the mess he had made, Harry chanced a look at the clock positioned on the wall and saw that it was five-thirty. He still had half an hour until his father would be finished supervising detention. So he neatly arranged the cake and his gift on the table and slumped down in one of the dining chairs, utterly exhausted. Harry’s head was still throbbing and setting his arms on the table, he rested his head on them and fell asleep almost instantly.

————————————————————————————————————————

The next thing Harry heard was a door slam and he jumped three feet in the air, leaping out of his seat.

“Harry?” He heard his father call.

“I’m in the kitchen!” Harry replied, trying his best to sound awake and alert.

Harry’s stomach was churning once again as he heard Snape’s footsteps approaching him. When Severus’ face appeared in the doorway, Harry beamed up at him.

“Happy Birthday!” Harry said enthusiastically, closely watching Snape for his reaction.

His father was stood stock still in the doorway looking utterly perplexed. Harry waited for a few moments but, when his father didn’t say anything, he began to worry that something was amiss.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Harry asked innocently.

“Who…who made the cake?” Snape asked softly. 

“Uh…me.” He answered, tilting his head to the side in a questioning manner. 

Harry didn’t get an answer. Instead, he just received an incredibly shocked look from his father. 

“I used to make all of Dudley’s birthday cakes so I have had a lot of practice!” Harry explained, eyeing Severus as the man slowly walked over towards the counter to take a closer look at his creation. 

“It’s extraordinary.” Snape uttered inspecting the cake. “This must have taken you hours.”

“Uh, a few hours I guess. I have been here since the end of my afternoon classes.”

Snape still looked in a state of shock and so Harry decided to distract him and turn his attention to something else.

“Anyway, that box on the table is for you.” Harry said, gesticulating to the small box wrapped in brown, parchment paper and secured with twine. “Open it!” He said encouragingly.

Severus complied, taking a seat and reading the ticket fastened to the package.

_Dear Sev,_

_I really hope you like this, I had no clue what to get! Hopefully you will find it useful!_

_With love,_

_Harry xx_

Agitated, Harry twiddled his thumbs as he waited for his father to unwrap the gift. Finally the gift was out of it’s wrappings and Severus was glaring down at it, his mouth agape. Harry had settled on getting him a leather bound potions journal with his name embossed on the cover in gold. He thought Severus would be able to make experimental notes and keep a record of any potions that he creates. The room was still completely silent until Harry spoke up, finding the silence unsettling.

“Do you like it?” Harry asked worriedly. 

“I love it, Harry, thank you.” His father replied sincerely, a true smile making its way on to the mans usually stoic face.

Snape then instructed Harry to go and wash-up before dinner and, when he returned from the bathroom, the table was set for two with the cake he had made resting safely on the kitchen counter. They both happily tucked into their steaks and chatted to each other about their day.

“So, how have your classes been today?” Severus asked.

“Yeah, okay.” Harry replied honestly, “Potions is my favourite subject but I don’t like having to pretend to hate you. History of Magic is always mind numbingly boring and I don’t like Defence Against the Dark Arts.” 

“Hmm, is there any particular reason why you do not enjoy Defence? I thought that learning defensive spells would be right up your street.”

“Yeah, it is. It’s just…I always seem to get a pounding headache whenever I am in that class. I can’t concentrate on anything and so I get into trouble with Quirrell a lot.” Harry admitted.

“How long have you been getting these headaches, Harry?” His father asked curiously.

“Since I started school.” 

“Hmm, and you don’t experience headaches in any of your other classes?” Severus pried. 

“No…I think it must have something to do with that stupid incense that Professor Quirrell burns!” Harry exclaimed, laughing.

“Possibly.” His father replied with a smirk, though he looked deep in thought.

They had finished eating their main and so Severus carefully levitated the birthday cake over to the centre of the table, Harry effortlessly lighting the candles with the tip of his wand.

“Now, I know you are supposed to sing Happy Birthday at this point, but I think that would be equally embarrassing for the both of us.” Harry chuckled. 

“Indeed, it would.” Severus replied, appearing to cringe slightly at the thought. 

“So instead I will just say, Happy Birthday, Sev. Make a wish!”

Harry watched as Severus contemplated his wish before blowing out the candles and then gave him a small round of applause. Harry then offered to cut the cake and passed a piece to his father before cutting himself a slice. They carried their cake slices into the living room and slumped down into the plush armchairs in front of the fire.

“It’s coffee and walnut cake, I hope that’s okay?” Harry said, breaking the silence.

“Ah, you have already noticed my love of coffee then?” Snape questioned, smirking at Harry.

He nodded as they both tucked into their cake, his father commenting on how delicious it was, which made Harry smile from ear to ear.

“We may need to share this cake around though.” Snape said. “As delicious as it is, I don’t think that we will be able to eat it all.”

“Yeah, that’s true.You could always put it in the staff room?” Harry suggested.

“Indeed I could, however I don’t usually have a cake made for me on my birthday.” His father admitted.

“Okay, um… you could always give a slice to Professor Dumbledore and then give the rest to the house-elves in the kitchen? You know, for a treat?” Harry proposed. 

“That is very thoughtful of you, Harry. I am sure they would be very thankful.” 

They continued to chat for a little while until Harry had to return to his dormitory. Giving his father one last wave, he creeped out into the hall and set off to meet Draco in the common room. 

\-----------------------------------------------

_Severus’ POV_

_Waving Harry off as he excited his living quarters, Severus lowered himself into his desk chair before summoning the seventh year’s assignments that he was yet to grade. However, all of his thoughts turned to Harry, whom continued to baffle him. The boy had only found out that he was his father mere weeks ago and he was already willingly celebrating his birthday with him. How did the boy even know when his birthday was? It must have been Albus, the meddling old coot. He did wonder as to why Harry insisted on moving his meeting this week._

_Nevertheless, when Severus entered his living quarters and discovered that Harry had made him a birthday cake, he was completely overwhelmed. Not once had anyone even bothered to buy him a cake, let alone make one. His son was definitely talented to produce anything of that calibre, the boy should open his own bakery in Diagon Alley when he is older. The fact that Harry had spent hours creating something so beautiful for him touched his shrivelled heart, not to mention the gift he had bought him which looked extortionately expensive._

_Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he put these foreign feelings to the back of his mind and focused on the task at hand._

 


	26. Badly Behaving Broomsticks

January whizzed by and lead into a dismal, gloomy February. The second Quidditch game of the season was approaching for the Slytherin team and Marcus was putting them all through their paces. Harry tried his best to be enthusiastic but he was no longer feeling the excitement he felt when he first rode a broomstick. The unwavering pressure to succeed was crippling him and he was beginning to question whether he belonged on the team at all.

The day of the Quidditch match arrived and Harry couldn’t wait to get it over with. He loved to fly on his broom, but he was finding that he wasn’t enjoying the practices as much as he thought he would, and he certainly wasn’t relishing in the pressure. 

As Harry walked into the Great Hall that morning, numerous Slytherin students came up to him wishing him luck. He smiled back at them even though it was painful to do so.  Draco was already sitting at the Slytherin table when Harry slumped down with a sigh beside him.

“What’s up, Harry?” Draco asked, looking at him quizzically.

“Ah, nothing. Just can’t wait for this match to be over.” Harry admitted, tipping some Cheeri Owls into his bowl.

“Why? Do you not like playing Seeker?” 

“Yeah, I do, it’s just the practices are tedious and the matches put me under a lot of stress.” Harry replied honestly.

“I get that. Especially since everyone in Slytherin is relying on you to win the match for us.”

“Thanks for that, Draco.” Harry muttered.

“What?! I’m only being honest!” Draco replied defensively. “Anyway, if you decide you don’t want to play next year, I’ll take your place as Seeker!” Draco said, winking at him.

“I would let you play today if Snape would let you. I can’t be doing with the stress.” Harry admitted.

They sat there and chatted idly about anything and everything until the time came for Harry to make his way down to the Quidditch pitch. Harry was traipsing along, trying to delay the inevitable for as long as possible when Draco put his arm around his shoulders and clapped him on the arm.

“Come on mate, you’ll be great!” Draco said encouragingly and Harry felt himself smiling genuinely for the first time that day.

————————————————————————————————————————

The match was about to begin and Harry was hovering on his broom a few feet above the ground, surrounded by his Slytherin teammates. He glanced around at the stands and found his father sitting with the other Professor’s. When the whistle blew to start the match, Harry soared straight up above all of the other players, giving himself an advantageous birds-eye view of the pitch. He was searching for a long while before he eventually caught sight of the Snitch, which was darting from side to side in the centre of the pitch. Harry was gliding towards it when his broom gave a sudden jolt. Trying to get it under control, Harry stopped mid flight. The broom beneath him continued to thrash around and he was struggling to maintain his balance. Harry heard gasps and concerned whispers as another forceful jolt caused Harry to slip off of his broom and he was fearfully clutching on to it with one arm, trying with all his might to swing himself back onto it. For what felt like hours of hanging there, his broomstick finally appeared to steady and he managed to swing his legs over and mount his broom. The crowd of Slytherin’s cheered as Harry regained his balance and continued his pursuit of the Snitch and, after a few hard shoves from the Hufflepuff team Seeker, he grasped the Snitch and ended the game.

Harry couldn’t be more relieved when he set his feet firmly back on the ground and he smiled through gritted teeth as the Slytherin’s congratulated him. As he made his way back to the changing rooms, he ran into a rather distressed looking Hermione, who dragged him away from the crowds to speak to him.

“Harry, thank goodness you are alright! Snape was jinxing your broom!” Hermione announced, none too quietly. “What?! How did you work that one out?” Harry queried, knowing that it couldn’t possibly have been his father.

“Well, I wanted to come to the match to see you play and I was sitting in the stands when your broom started misbehaving. It looked as though it was being bewitched and so I looked around the stands and I saw Snape in the one opposite me, staring at you and muttering to himself.”

“So what? Why does that make you think he was jinxing my broom? He was probably just muttering about how incompetent I am!” Harry sniggered.

“That isn’t funny.” Hermione replied sternly. “I’ve read all about wand-less magic and it is essential that you keep eye contact. Snape wasn’t blinking, Harry.”

“Well, surely if he wanted me to fall off of my broom, he wouldn’t have stopped.” Harry reasoned and glanced at Hermione who looked very sheepish. “What, what is it?” Harry looked around, concerned they had been overheard. 

“I…I sort of set his robes on fire to break his gaze.” Hermione admitted, looking down at her feet guiltily. 

“You what?!” Harry hissed, glancing around subconsciously.

“It must have been him.” Hermione continued. “Else your broom wouldn’t have stopped thrashing around!”

There was absolutely no way that Harry was going to believe it was Severus, but he tried to sound both worried and intrigued for Hermione’s sake.

“Well, why would he want to knock me off of my broom? I’m on the Slytherin team, it doesn’t make any sense!”

“I don’t know, Harry. Snape seems to have it in for you, he is always mocking you in potions. Just be careful okay, Harry?” Hermione said, looking sincerely worried.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I will still be around to annoy you!” He replied winking. “Thank you for looking out for me though.”

“No problem! Anyway, I had better go, I have to pop into the library before curfew. See you later, Harry!”

“See you, Hermione,” he replied, waving as she shuffled up the stone path to the castle.

————————————————————————————————————————

Once Harry had changed out of his Quidditch uniform, he made his way out of the changing rooms and walked straight into Severus who was waiting outside for him.

“Potter, come with me.” He said firmly, grabbing Harry’s arm and dragging him past the remaining groups of students.

They trekked through the castle, into Snape’s office and through to his private quarters. Severus then offered Harry a seat and his father sat on the coffee table in front of him. Surprisingly, the man gently clasped his hands in his own. 

“Are you alright?” Snape asked, looking at him with undisguised concern. 

“Yeah, fine. Why?” Harry replied.

“Well you did almost get thrown off of your broom.”

“Yeah, I know. It was probably just some fool playing a prank though.” Harry reasoned.

“Hmm, and what may I ask did Miss Granger have to say about it?” His father asked, glaring at him questioningly.

“Oh, she thought that it was you because she saw you staring at me and muttering or something. Of course I knew it wasn’t you, but I tried to sound intrigued none the less.” 

“I see. No prizes for guessing who set my robes on fire then.” Severus mused, sweeping his robes in front of Harry so that he could see their charred edges.

“Sorry…”

“It isn’t your fault. I’m glad that she was looking out for you, she may have just saved your life.” Severus added. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, setting my robes on fire must have been an adequate distraction for whoever was jinxing your broom, Harry. Miss Granger may have been wrong about who the attacker was, but she certainly created a diversion.” His father explained.

“Yeah, she is brilliant.” Harry replied honestly.“But seeing as it definitely wasn’t you, do you have any idea who it might be?”

“I have my suspicions but I have no evidence to accuse them.” Snape responded despondently.

“Who do you think it is?” Harry asked, eager to find out who had it in for him.

“I’m not going to tell you, Harry. I think it is best that you let me deal with this, okay?” His father said, squeezing Harry’s hands.

“Fine.” Harry replied with a sigh.

“In the meantime, keep your eyes peeled and if you notice anything suspicious, come and find me immediately. Understood?”

Harry nodded before Severus let him go and headed back to the boy’s dormitories for a long awaited rest.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

_Severus’ POV_

_Severus started pacing up and down his living room as soon as Harry had left his quarters. He was still trying to rid himself of the nervous energy that had built up since watching his son being thrown around on his broom twenty feet above the ground. Severus began to panic when his counter-curse wasn’t offering much help and was utterly relieved when Harry managed to re-mount his broom._

_Quirrell. That two-faced coward has been acting strangely all year, Severus often finding him looking suspicious in places that he had no reason to be. He had even taken his concerns to Dumbledore who, forever the diplomat, simply stated that he needed more evidence before he could accuse him of anything. Severus just knew the man was up to no good._

_Albus had reassured him that the Philosopher’s Stone was safely hidden in the Mirror of Erised, but that didn’t do anything to ease his anxiety. Deciding it was time to take matters in to his own hands, he set out to have a perfectly friendly chat with Quirrell._


	27. The Mirror of Erised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blimey, I am actually uploading on time! Here is the next instalment of my story, not long to go now! 
> 
> As always, many thanks to my editor, consultmeforcumberbatch.
> 
> Enjoy my lovelies!

Harry’s POV

As the weeks went by and winter turned to spring, Hermione was still fixated on finding out who caused Harry’s broom to act crazy during the last Quidditch match. 

“It just has to be Snape, there is just nobody else it could be!” Hermione insisted for the fifteenth time that day. 

Harry was getting a little fed up with Hermione’s theories to say the least and he just wished she would drop the situation.

“It could be, but what if you setting his robes on fire caused a distraction which put the attacker off of his game?” Harry said impatiently.

“Well, either way someone was jinxing your broom, Harry. You aren’t safe until we find out who it is…” 

Thankfully, Harry was saved by Draco, who met him in the corridor on their way to Defence Against the Dark Arts. They chatted casually before filing into the classroom and taking their seats. Harry’s headache hit him like a brick wall as soon as he entered the classroom, it almost felt to him as though somebody was crushing his head in a vice. Slumping down in his seat, Draco turned towards Harry and looked at him worriedly.

“Harry, are you okay? You’ve gone all pale.” His friend questioned.

Beads of sweat were starting to appear on Harry’s forehead and he felt lightheaded.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Harry lied. “Just feel a bit dizzy. Probably dehydrated.” He said, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

Draco seemed to believe him and turned his attention to Professor Quirrell when he began talking. 

“So t-today we will b-be learning ab-bout the sp-spell, ‘Periculum.”

Harry completely zoned out after that and was staring off into space, dragged from his thoughts when the professor started screeching at him. 

“Mr P-P-Potter, you h-haven’t been p-paying attention in my c-c-class for weeks. D-detention at six, P-Potter. Don’t b-be late!”

Great, Harry thought. He tried not to roll his eyes as he replied.“Yes, Sir.”

As per usual, the lesson dragged on for so long that it felt as though Harry had been in the classroom all day when they were finally dismissed. He was livid that he would have to return later for his detention. Right now though, he was going to try and sleep off his pounding headache.

————————————————————————————————————————

Harry arrived for his detention at five to six, thinking it best that he arrive early. Knocking lightly on the door, Professor Quirrell called for him to enter. The confined room was very plain and unassuming, so much so that the stone walls didn’t boast any decoration, nor was anything in the room highly elaborate. Instead, an aged wooden desk was sitting in the centre of the room which was surrounded by a couple of rickety looking chairs. The only thing that made the room feel at all inviting was the roaring fireplace on the left side of the room.

“G-good evening, Mr P-Potter. We are g-going to be d-d-doing something s-slightly d-d-different for your detention this e-e-evening.” Quirrell stuttered. “F-follow me.” The man instructed as he strode out of the room.

Harry’s palms began to sweat. What on earth did Quirrell have planned for his detention? He hoped he wasn’t going to be handed over to Filch. Harry had heard many a horror story from students who had served detention with the creepy caretaker. 

After walking through a sea of corridors, which were practically empty due to the majority of the students and staff attending dinner in the Great Hall, they rounded the corner into a corridor that Harry was very familiar with. It was the hall which housed the door to the Astronomy Tower. As the pair walked past, Harry’s heart started fluttering as he realised that they had stopped outside the door to the room which held the strange mirror.

Curious as to what the hell Quirrell wanted with the mirror, the professor unlocked the door with a wave of his wand and quickly ushered Harry inside. The contents of the room hadn’t changed since the last time he had happened across it, except that the mirror was now uncovered and the evening sunlight shone through the windows. Harry just stood awkwardly beside the door as the professor stalked towards him. 

“Right, P-P-Potter. You are g-going to h-help me.” Quirrell stated, lugging Harry across the room by the arm until he stood facing the mirror. “Now, w-what do you s-see?” The Professor asked him.

As expected, his mother appeared in the mirror once again, yet she was shaking her head back and forth as if she were warning him not to tell the truth. Even though he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining it, Harry took his mothers’ advice.

“Uh…I see everyone cheering for me. I have won the Quidditch cup, Sir.” He lied.

“Rubbish!” A voice hissed from behind him which didn’t seem to come from Quirrell.

Harry snapped his head around to look behind him when Quirrell’s hand grabbed his neck and pushed him closer to the mirror. He started to panic, thinking that the professor was going to stick his head right through it. 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Potter!” His professor demanded, noticing that his supposed stammer had disappeared. “I know you see it.” Quirrell sneered.

“See what, Sir?” Harry asked, completely baffled and deciding that his professor had lost the plot. 

“The Philosopher’s Stone!” The professor bellowed. “It is held inside the mirror, I know you can see it!” 

“Honestly, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about!” Harry replied, raising his hands above his head in surrender. 

Suddenly, Quirrell wrenched him around and punched Harry squarely on the nose, grasping his hair and pulling his head up when Harry put his head down. 

“Now I will ask you again, Potter. What do you see?!” 

At some point, Harry must have started crying as he felt salty tears running down his cheeks and mingling with the blood that coated his cheeks. He remained silent and just when he thought Quirrell was going to lash out at him again, he heard the mysterious voice again.

“Let me see him!” The voice hissed and, with a moment of hesitation and a grim look on his face, Quirrell started unwinding his turban, removing layers and layers before throwing it to the ground disrespectfully.

Whilst the professor was occupied, Harry edged closer and closer to the door before wiggling the handle desperately. Cursing when he found it to be locked, Harry drew his wand and turned around. Nothing could have prepared Harry for what he saw next. Quirrell spun around to expose a face protruding out from the back of his head. Harry was shocked into silence. 

“So, Harry Potter, we meet again.” The shrivelled face whispered. “And after ten years, you still try to defy me!” 

Harry felt sick. “Wait you’re…you’re Voldemort!”

“Yes, it is I. Your filthy Mudblood mother got in my way when she saved you all those years ago, draining me of my powers. Taking another body as a host, nobody would have suspected poor, quivering Professor Quirrell to carry out the deed. I, Lord Voldemort, am here to finish what I tried to accomplish all those years ago! Quirrell, kill the boy!” He ordered.

Harry attempted to stay calm as he frantically pointed his wand at his professor to defend himself. Yet, before Harry could even conjure a spell, Quirrell disarmed him and pinned him against the door, his wand clattering to the ground out of reach. 

He was about to scream out for help when Quirrell spun him around, clasping his hands firmly around Harry’s neck before lifting him up and pressing him against the  closed door, crushing the life out of him.

Harry flailed around, desperately trying to escape the mans grasp and in a final fight for survival, Harry clutched the mans hand tightly and attempted to unclench the fist holding him. Suddenly, Harry crashed to the floor, painfully landing on his coccyx and noticed that Quirrell was clutching his arm whilst screaming in agony. As Harry fought to catch his breath, he looked up to see that the Professors hand was literally crumbling to pieces. A little repulsed by the scene, Harry turned and dived for his wand. Though once again, Quirrell stormed over to him, casually kicking Harry’s wand out of reach and lunged towards him. Harry then reached out and touched the his other arm and watched in disgusted fascination as it disintegrated. Taking the opportunity whilst Quirrell was distracted, Harry launched himself forward and pressed his hands against his face.

Not having a clue how he was making it happen, Harry took a few paces backwards as he witnessed the man writhing in pain until he was nothing but ash and dust. The smell of charred flesh assaulted Harry’s senses and he struggled not to gag. Then, right before his eyes, dust was swirling in circles and floating above the man he had unintentionally killed. Without any warning, the spirit raced towards Harry, screaming at him in fury and sent him flying across the room and into the mirror. There was an almighty smash as his head collided with the mirror, before everything faded away to nothing and he fell into a crumpled heap. 

Severus’ POV

_Severus was in his office rather late that evening, marking the third-years essays on Grindylows. It was painstakingly boring and it was a wonder that he hadn’t fallen asleep. If he read another essay which began with, ‘Grindylows are dangerous creatures…’, he was going to need a stiff drink._

_At nine-thirty, Severus decided he had marked more than enough essays for one day and started to pack up his things. Just as he was about to retire for the night, he heard someone rapping lightly on his office door._

_“Enter.” He called, wishing more than anything that he could just crawl into bed._

_Surprisingly, a rather flustered looking Draco Malfoy walked in, sheepishly approaching his desk._

_“It is after curfew, Mr Malfoy, this better be important.” Severus sneered, staring at the boy who appeared to be quaking in his boots._

_“Well, yes it is, Sir. You see I’m a little worried…” Draco said tentatively before Severus cut him off._

_“Spit it out will you, Mr Malfoy!”_

_“I just thought you should know that Harry hasn’t arrived back to the dormitory, Sir.” Draco said quickly._

_Severus tried to conceal the feeling of panic that overtook him as he questioned Draco._

_“Very well. When did you last see him?”_

_“I saw him at dinner and then he had to go to a detention with Professor Quirrell.”_

_That was enough for alarm bells to start ringing in Severus’ head. He didn’t trust Quirrell and he had been behaving strangely all year._

_“Thank you, Mr Malfoy. I will go and retrieve him. Return to your dormitory.” Severus ordered as he swept out of the room._

_————————————————————————————————————————_

_Severus was walking swiftly towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, trying not to raise suspicion with the professor’s who were on night watch. He knew that something about Quirrell wasn’t quite right and had even threatened him when he expressed so much interest in locating the Philosopher’s Stone. Suspecting that this was the work of Death Eater’s, Severus tried to remain impassive, so as not to reveal where his true loyalties lay. If that son of a bitch had laid so much as a finger on his son, Severus swore to himself that he would kill the man with his bare hands._

_Arriving at the Defence classroom, Severus sprinted between the rows of desks and up the weaving stone staircase to Quirrell’s office. He knocked impatiently on the door and waited a few moments. There was no answer. Knocking again, his panic was starting to rise and without waiting to see if anyone would answer, Severus cast ‘Bombarda’, successfully blasting the door off of its hinges._

_Upon entering the room, Severus was shocked to see that Quirrell’s office remained undisturbed. There was not one thing out of place and strangely, this made him more uneasy. Striding over to the door leading to Quirrell’s private quarters, Severus disbanded the mans fragile wards with ease and stormed into the living room._

_Again, nothing was out of the ordinary, with no sign of his quarters being occupied since that morning, if his untouched coffee mug was anything to go by. This meant that his earlier suspicions were likely to be true. Quirrell had found out about the Philosopher’s Stone being concealed in the Mirror of Erised and obviously thought Harry would be the key to obtaining it._

_Trying to quell his anxiety, Severus closed his eyes and focused on memories of his first Christmas with Harry. Reading ridiculous jokes during a belated Christmas dinner, eating sweets until they felt sick and having an impromptu snowball fight in the courtyard in the middle of the night. He let these memories fill him with joy as he conjured his patronus and sent it to Albus, he needed back-up for whatever awaited him._

_————————————————————————————————————————_

_Not wanting to waste another moment of precious time, Severus ran flat out through a sea of winding corridors until he stood outside the door which housed the Mirror of Erised. He was just about to start deconstructing the wards when Albus appeared right next to him._

_“Jesus, Albus!” He hissed, clutching his chest in an attempt to still his frantically beating heart. “If I had known I could have apparated on Hogwarts’ grounds, I would have done it much sooner!”_

_“Ah, but being me has its privileges.” Albus merely stated before waving his hand and effortlessly dismantling the wards._

_Rolling his eyes, Severus tentatively rested his hand on the door knob and looked at Albus for confirmation. Receiving a nod, Severus drew his wand and cautiously opened the door, peering around the door jam to find the room in complete darkness and a smell that he couldn’t place assaulting his nose. Staying flush to the wall, he beckoned Albus to follow him inside before lighting the room._

_Severus almost collapsed when he saw his son crumpled on the floor in front of the smashed mirror, blood coating his lily-white face. He rushed over and shook Harry in an attempt to rouse him and hastily took the boy’s pulse when he was unresponsive. Severus released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding when the steady pulse beneath his fingers confirmed that Harry was alive, just unconscious._

_Treading carefully around shards of broken glass, Severus gently manoeuvred Harry into a sitting position when he discovered copious amounts of blood coating the back of the boy’s head. Knowing that time was of the essence when it came to head injuries, Severus carefully scooped up Harry’s limp form and rested the boy’s bleeding head against his shoulder._

_Steadily avoiding the debris, Severus found Albus kneeling on the floor inspecting a mound of ash covered garments. The appearance of the ash suddenly made sense._

_“Is that what I think it is, Albus?” Severus questioned as he crouched down to collect Harry’s discarded wand._

_“Yes, Severus. It appears that Quirrell is no longer with us.” Albus said, bowing his head slightly._

_“Good riddance.” Severus hissed. “I am taking Harry to the Hospital Wing. I trust that you will continue to look into this?”_

_“Indeed, Severus. I already have my suspicions but focus on Harry getting treated.”_

_Without another word, Severus cast a disillusionment charm and raced to the Hospital Wing._

_————————————————————————————————————————_

_Upon arrival, he was greeted by Madam Pomfrey whom quickly ushered Severus into the private cubicle behind the matrons office, the one that Harry had stayed in over the Christmas break. Severus gently set his son onto the bed, crouching down beside him as Madam Pomfrey cast a diagnostic charm. She was silent as her eyes darted back and forth across the parchment and he was quickly becoming impatient._

_“Well, what’s the verdict?” Severus asked worriedly._

_“It is apparent that Mr Potter has sustained a rather nasty head injury, causing his skull to fracture.” Severus’ heart stopped for a moment and he must have drained of colour as Poppy continued. “However, luckily there has been no damage to his brain and there won’t be any long-lasting symptoms.”_

_Severus sighed with relief and nodded for Poppy to continue._

_“On first inspection I was concerned that the bleeding from the nose was as a result of his head injury, though upon taking a closer look, it appears as though his nose has been broken. Strangulation also seems a strong possibility if the small bruises on his neck and laboured breathing are anything to go by.” The matron concluded as she summoned a collection of bandages and such from her storeroom._

_Severus was absolutely fuming. That conniving bastard had injured his son. He couldn’t quite understand how the man had ended up being turned to ash though. Harry certainly couldn’t have cast a spell that powerful, not at such a young age. Nevertheless, Severus was glad the man was dead after seeing the state that Harry was in._

_“What happened to the boy, Severus?” Poppy queried as she continued to sort through a myriad of healing potions._

_“I’m not sure, Poppy.” He replied honestly. “All I know is that Quirrell was behind it.” Severus added through gritted teeth, not sure as to how much the woman knew about the Philosopher’s Stone._

_Instantly the Matron’s expression changed from concerned to downright angry._

_“I knew there was something strange about that man!” She declared. “He shouldn’t be within ten feet of children!”_

_“Well have no fear of that.” Severus added dryly before changing the subject. “Is there anything I can do to assist you?” He asked instead, feeling restless and wanting to help in any way possible._

_“We cannot do much for the pain and such until he has awoken from his concussion and we can see how lucid he is. However, I think it may be wise to heal his injuries and clean him up before he wakes. I believe it would be best to start with his head so if you could hold him in a sitting position whilst I work, that would be most helpful.”_

_Without hesitation, Severus stood up and perched himself on the edge of the bed, lifting Harry into a sitting position and resting his arm around the boys’ collar bone to keep him steady._

_Within minutes, Poppy had successfully sealed the nasty gash on the crown of his sons head and banished any remnants of blood. She then applied a generous amount of healing salve to the area before wrapping Harry’s head in a bandage. Next they set to work on fixing Harry’s nose with a muttered ‘Episkey’ and wiping the excess blood from his face._

_After treating the bruises on his neck with bruise removal paste, Severus mended his sons’ glasses with a wave of his wand and transfigured his uniform into a pair of cosy pyjamas before settling him into bed. Once he was sure his son was comfortable, Severus fell into one of the chairs by Harry’s bedside and nervously waited for his son to wake._


	28. Rest and Recuperation

Harry’s POV

Harry slowly drifted back into awareness and he felt as though he had been hit by a train. He ached from head to toe and found it difficult to prise his eyelids open. Groaning, Harry attempted to move when he felt a hand on his chest steadying him and a voice calling for someone called Poppy. Whoever Poppy was Harry didn’t care, he just wanted to slip back into the realm of nothingness.

“Harry?”

Someone was calling him now but he still couldn’t force his eyes open, instead he just grunted in response.

“Can you hear me, Harry?”

“Um hmm.” Harry groaned as he fought against the fog of exhaustion.

“Alright, dear. We’re just going to lift you up slightly, okay?” 

Harry was going to protest but he already felt himself being hauled upwards. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone to sleep? He then violently flinched away as fingers started to manually prise his eyes open for him and he fought to close them against the offending white light.

“Hello there, Harry!” The same feminine voice said far too jovially. “I’m just checking your eyes, okay?”

“Hmm.” He murmured, still fruitlessly trying to wrench his head away. 

A few minutes later, the annoyingly bright light was removed for which he was very grateful, although everything was still cloudy so he mustn’t have his glasses on. He can vaguely make out someone sitting at the end of the bed as the woman started talking again.

“How old are you, Harry?” The woman asked and Harry would have rolled his eyes if he could. Why was she asking such stupid questions?

“Mm ‘leven.” Harry murmured, his voice unusually hoarse and swaying slightly as he fought off the lingering fatigue.

“Good boy. Do you know where you are, Harry?” 

“Uh, ‘Ogwarts?” He said, more of a question than a statement.

“Yes, you are indeed at Hogwarts.” She said fondly. “Do you remember what happened, Harry?”

“Um…” Harry started before everything seemed to come back into focus. Quirrell, detention, the mirror, the crumbling flesh…the smell.”

Harry started to tremble as these memories came flooding back to him and his eyes darted around looking for his glasses. Sweeping his hand frantically over his bedside table, he finally found them and shoved them on his face. Everything came back into focus and he tried to concentrate on his breathing when a hand came to rest on his arm.

Wrenching his arm away, Harry scrambled on the bed until he was as far away from the imposing limb as possible without leaving the safety of the bed.

“Don’t touch me!” He shouted, curling himself into a ball.

“Harry…” A familiar voice spoke. “It’s Sev. I’m not going to hurt you.” The man reassured, reaching out again only for Harry to shift so that he was just out of reach.

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” Harry croaked, his already sore throat scratching every time he spoke. “I will hurt you if I touch you.”

“What do you mean, Harry?” Severus questioned, looking at Harry sadly like he had completely lost the plot. 

“I will burn you if I touch you. That’s what happened to Professor Quirrell.” Harry admitted, burying his face into the blankets.

Harry felt the bed dip slightly as someone perched on the edge.

“You won’t hurt me, I promise.” Severus said, staring intently back at Harry and reaching his hand out.

Harry instinctively pulled his hand away, he really didn’t want his father to turn to dust.

“Trust me.” Severus whispered and he scooted a little closer.

Tentatively, Harry extended his shaking hand out and gently pressed a fingertip against his fathers skin. Nothing happened and Severus took his hand in his own. Harry was so relieved that his fathers hand didn’t crumble that he choked back a sob and he felt Severus drape his arm around him and rub his arm in a comforting manner. 

The silence was broken however when Madam Pomfrey started offering him a cocktail of potions and Harry felt himself blush with embarrassment. He had forgotten she was in the room. As soon as the healing potions passed his lips, the residual pain faded away and he sighed in relief as he sank back into the pillows. 

He felt someone gently draping the covers over him and turned to look at his father questioningly.

“It is still the early hours of the morning, Harry. It is probably best that you sleep whilst you aren’t in any pain.”

Harry nodded but he didn’t remove his glasses or make any move to settle down to sleep. “Aren’t you going to go to bed?” Harry asked. 

“No, I am going to stay with you.” His father replied resolutely.

“But it’s really late or…early?” He questioned, not sure which was the right term to use at this time of day.

“It is Saturday tomorrow, therefore I have nowhere to be and I am more than content to stay here with you.”

“You aren’t sleeping here though, not in that uncomfortable thing.” Harry said gesticulating towards the chair that his father was currently occupying. “Promise you will leave as soon as I’m asleep?”

“If it makes you happy, I will go when you fall asleep.” Severus conceded.

“Okay.” Harry merely replied, remaining flat on his back and staring at the ceiling as he replayed the nights events.

“Is something on your mind, Harry?” His father asked breaking the silence. 

“Just a few things.” Harry replied vaguely, not once peeling his eyes away from the ceiling.

“Would you like to share?” Severus pried, looking at Harry expectantly.

Not particularly wanting to worry his father by telling him that Quirrell had Voldemort on the back of his head, Harry thought he should just let it go. However, he felt he needed to lift the weight off of his shoulders and so he decided to tell his father without being too forthcoming about what actually happened, unless he was asked directly. 

“I just don’t get it.” Harry started. “How could Quirrell have a face on the back of his head?!” He exclaimed.

“A what?” His father asked, looking at him rather worriedly. “Are you sure you hadn’t already hit your head at that point?” The man asked with a small smile.

“Yes, I’m sure!” Harry replied, rolling his eyes. “It was underneath Quirrell’s turban! He asked me if I knew where this object was and when I said I didn’t, he unravelled his turban and there was a face underneath it!”

His father looked utterly bemused.“Do you remember what this object was called?” Snape questioned.

“The Philosopher’s Stone.” Harry said flatly. 

His father was just staring at him in a state of shock and so Harry continued.“What the hell is the Philosopher’s Stone anyway?!”

“It is a stone with magical properties, Harry. It can turn any metal into pure gold and it can be used to create the ‘Elixir of Life’ which, the clue is in the name, makes the drinker immortal. I don’t know why Quirrell would have been so interested in it though, unless of course he had been instructed to retrieve it for someone else.” Severus mused.

Harry’s heart lodged itself in his throat and he grew panicked as he realised why Voldemort was so desperate for the stone. He wanted to become immortal. His anxiety levels were rising at the thought of it and he started trembling again. 

“What’s wrong, Harry?” His father asked softly.

“There’s more to the story.” He said simply.

“We don’t have to discuss it tonight.” Severus said sincerely.

“I just don’t think I can sleep whilst I have this on my mind.” Harry replied honestly

“Okay, just carry on whenever you are ready.” Snape said, leaning back in his chair, waiting patiently.

A few moments passed in complete silence before Harry had the courage to continue and, after taking a deep breath, he ploughed on.

“Basically, it turned out that the face on the back of Quirrell’s head was Voldemort’s.” 

Severus appeared to be shocked into silence but Harry forged on with the conversation before he clammed up.

“He asked me what I saw in the mirror and got really angry when I didn’t tell him. He thought I could get the stone out of the mirror or something, even though I didn’t have a clue what it was.” Harry swallowed thickly before continuing. “When he decided I wasn’t going to be of any use, he tried to kill me again and strangled me.” He explained, making a grabbing motion around his neck for emphasis. “I tried to get away and when I touched Quirrell, he started to crumble and there was nothing I could do. The last thing I remember before waking up is being thrown into the mirror.” 

Harry swiped at his eyes as he felt a lone tear escape and trickle down his cheek. “Now I am just as bad as Voldemort.” He concluded before he let the tears flow freely. 

He then felt the bed dip again as his father settled on the bed next to him. “Why in Merlin’s name do you think you are as bad as he is, Harry?” Severus asked softly.

“Because I killed someone.” Harry stuttered.

“No.” His father said firmly. “If Quirrell was being possessed by the Dark Lord for that long, he wouldn’t have survived anyway.” Severus reassured him.

“Really?” Harry asked skeptically.

“Really.” His father confirmed, gently patting his back.

“Thanks, Dad.” Harry muttered through his tears before he blushed crimson seeing the look on Severus’ face. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that.” Harry stuttered apologetically as he turned away from his father, not wanting to see the look of rejection.

Instead, the reassuring hand returned to his back. “It’s okay, Harry. It isn’t the first time you have called me that.” Severus said. 

“I know. I won’t mess up again though, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind you know, Harry.” His father added. “If you would like to call me Dad or Father in private, I am not opposed to the idea.”

To say that he was surprised was an understatement. Severus really didn’t mind? Turning his head, Harry peeked through his fringe to see his father looking at him with sincerity. Then, without giving it a second thought, Harry launched himself into his fathers arms.

When he felt the body underneath him stiffen, Harry thought he had pushed the man too far, yet when he made to pull away, strong arms encircled him and held him tightly.

His tears made yet another reappearance, but they were tears of joy for a change. Harry cannot ever remember being held by a parent or guardian and he was relishing in the feeling of security.

“Shh, it’s alright.” He heard his father whisper into his ear as he continued to rub his back.

Harry couldn’t help the small smile that crept on his face as he pulled back to settle down for bed, without releasing his fathers shirt. Severus seemed to get the hint and shifted until he sat resting against the headboard as Harry curled up like a kitten beside him. 

He almost jumped when he felt shy fingers carding through his hair and felt himself grinning as he fell asleep.


	29. The Boy-Who-Lived

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! I am back with another update for you all. We are approaching the end and there will be about four of five chapters before it is complete!
> 
> Special thanks to my fabulous sister and editor, consultmeforcumberbatch.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this latest instalment!

Harry awoke that morning as sun streamed through the venetian blinds that covered the small window of his cubicle. As he was coming around from a deep sleep, he realised that he wasn’t lying on a pillow, instead, his head was resting on his fathers chest. He could hear the mans steady heartbeat and could feel the rise and fall of his chest. Harry’s neck had become stiff after sleeping at such an awkward angle and he wanted to move, yet he could hear soft snores from his father and he didn’t want to wake him. Deciding to stay put, Harry just closed his eyes again and continued listening to the heartbeat beneath him.

Shortly after, he heard the cubicle door opening. Guessing that it was Madam Pomfrey coming to check on him, Harry kept his eyes closed, feigning sleep. Harry didn’t understand what on earth the woman was doing, he couldn’t hear any movement and so he figured she was just stood there staring at them. 

Harry almost visibly jumped when he heard his fathers chest vibrate beneath him as the man muttered.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer.”

Madam Pomfrey left the room after Snape’s sarcastic comment and Harry felt his father stir beneath him as he leant over to stroke his head. Knowing his father would be mortified that he had fallen asleep with Harry resting on him, he kept his eyes closed and pretended to be asleep.

A few moments passed before he felt his father gently lifting him off of his lap, sliding off of the bed and lowering him back onto the mattress. Deciding that it was acceptable to show he was awake, Harry slowly opened his eyes to see his father having resumed his position in his favourite chair.

“Good morning, Harry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” His father whispered. “How are you feeling?”

“Morning, Dad. Yeah, I feel alright thanks.” Harry replied, sitting up slowly before cricking his neck and stretching. “What’s the time?”

“Nine-fifteen.” Snape responded. “Are you in any pain?”

“No, not really. I mean, I still have a slight headache but I guess that is to be expected, right?” Harry questioned.

“Indeed.” Was his fathers reply before Madam Pomfrey swept into the room and started fussing him.

“Oh good, you’re awake, Harry. Now, if the wound on your head is healing as I would expect, I can let you go and enjoy your Saturday.” She stated.

“Really? Great!” Harry said enthusiastically, not quite believing that he was able to leave so soon. 

Sitting up, Harry turned around on the bed so that the Matron could inspect his wound.

“It all looks fine to me, it is bound to be sore for the next few days, but if the pain doesn’t go away or it gets worse, you must come and see me straight away. Someone will have to keep a close eye on you today though as you had a rather severe concussion. Alright, Harry?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you.” Harry replied politely with a small smile.

“You’re very welcome. Off you go then!” She exclaimed, waving her hand towards the door.

Shooting up, Harry made his way to the bathroom to get washed and dressed when his father stopped him.

“You can take care of your morning ablutions in our quarters if you would prefer?” Severus offered.

Harry nodded enthusiastically as they walked through the deserted Hospital Wing and flooed themselves back to their quarters.

————————————————————————————————————————

They stepped out into the familiar, cozy living room and Harry trotted off to his bathroom to wash up. Once Harry was sure that he had scrubbed all of the excess blood that was still matted in his hair, he stepped out of the shower, wrapped himself in a towel and walked into his bedroom. He noticed that his father had already set out some comfy clothes for him, a pair of grey jogging bottoms, a plain crimson t-shirt and a grey zip-up sweatshirt.

Once he was all dressed, Harry walked into the kitchen to see his father in his favoured spot at the dining table, Daily Prophet in hand. When Harry came over to sit down, he noticed that there was a full English breakfast waiting for him, along with a cup of pumpkin juice. Harry was delighted and he started to tuck in straight away. He was ravenous, seeing as he had missed dinner last night. They both ate in silence until his father finally shifted his eye from that blasted paper and addressed Harry.

“So, Madam Pomfrey has strongly suggested that I keep an eye on you today. However, I am going to need to go and see Professor Dumbledore shortly to discuss the events of last night.” Severus admitted. 

Harry looked down at his hands sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to kill him, I don’t know what happened.” Harry muttered sadly.

“I know you didn’t mean to kill him, Harry, but I am glad that you did.” Snape replied stoically.

“What?” Harry asked incredulously, “But it wasn’t Quirrell’s fault, he was just being controlled by Voldemort wasn't he? I still murdered an innocent man!” Harry reasoned, his voice catching in his throat.

“Harry, listen to me.” His father said, glaring at him.“You acted in self-defence. I don’t honestly know how you managed it, but if you hadn’t done anything then you would have died.”

“Yeah, well maybe I should have just let it happen.” Harry deadpanned. “Mum and James died protecting my sorry arse and seeing as the creep is still out to kill me, I should have just died and done everyone else a favour!” Harry said angrily, pushing his chair back and storming off towards his room before a firm hand grasped his wrist tightly. 

“Geroff!” Harry exclaimed as he tried to prise his hand from his fathers’ iron grip.

“No, you listen to me, Harry!” Severus said firmly, and Harry, knowing full well the man was irate, thought better of resisting and decided to just stare at him angrily,

“Nothing that has happened is your fault.” His father said seriously. “Your mother and James sacrificed themselves for you because they both loved you dearly. You are a beacon of hope for us, Harry. You are the Boy-Who-Lived.”

Harry just stared at his father with a calculating look. Truly wanting to believe that his mothers’ death wasn’t his fault, Harry still couldn’t shake away the guilt that had been pressing down on his shoulders since he had found out about that dreadful night.

“Well, what if I don’t want to be the stupid ‘Boy-Who-Lived!?’ What if I don’t want all of these expectations to live up to?! I have already disappointed everyone by being sorted into Slytherin and I have only just discovered that I am a wizard!” Harry spat frustratedly before attempting to reign in his temper after the warning look his father gave him.“Mum would still be here if it wasn’t for me.” Harry said with finality, staring at the ground in shame. 

“Harry, look at me.” His father ordered as he crouched down. “If you had been killed that night, it would have changed everything. The Dark Lord is not merciful, Harry, and though it pains me to say it, he would have killed your mother and James without a second thought. The fact that your mother sacrificed herself for you caused the Dark Lord to fall. Without her, and indeed you, the world as we know it would never have existed. We would have all been ruled by a manipulative, sadistic leader. You changed everything for the better, Harry. You and your mother saved the Wizarding World.” His father explained, staring into his eyes the whole time as if to convey his sincerity. 

Harry still felt as though everything was his fault, but he couldn’t deny that his fathers words had made him feel a lot better. 

Nodding his head, Severus briefly patted his shoulder before returning to an upright position. 

“Come now, I must see Professor Dumbledore.” His father said.

Harry hesitantly held out his hand and was surprised when the man took it. They proceeded to step into the hearth and flooed to the Headmaster’s office.


	30. The Power of Love

In a flash, they appeared in Dumbledore’s office, his father elegantly waltzing out of the fireplace unlike Harry himself whom was choking on soot and unsteadily stumbling into the office. Professor Dumbledore wasn’t sitting at his desk as usual and Harry guessed that he was still having breakfast in the Great Hall. Harry killed the time by looking curiously at some of the interesting artefacts that littered the room. There were all sorts of strange contraptions, yet Harry knew better than to touch anything in the wizarding world that he didn’t recognise. There was no telling what it might do.

A few minutes passed when he heard the door swing open and the familiar voice of the Headmaster.

“Ah, Severus my boy, what can I do for you this morning?” Dumbledore asked. Yet before Snape could answer, the Headmaster jumped as he spotted Harry lurking in the corner of the office.

“Oh, Harry! I didn’t see you there! Is everything alright?” He asked, looking between him and his father questioningly.

“Well not really, Albus. We have something rather important to discuss with you.” Snape replied solemnly.

“Very well, I am all ears. Please have a seat.” Dumbledore said, waving his hands towards the chairs in front of his desk.

Snape took one of the proffered chairs and so Harry followed suit and did the same. A few moments of silence ensued before his father initiated conversation.

“There is quite a pressing situation. We no longer have a Defence Against the Arts teacher.” Snape stated matter-of-factly.

Dumbledore’s eyes widened as he looked at the Potions Master in utter disbelief. 

“What do you mean, my boy?” Dumbledore replied steadily.

Snape glanced over at Harry, silently asking whether he wanted him to recount his story and Harry nodded at him. 

It took his father a while to outline the whole of the story and Harry started daydreaming and staring out into space, not particularly wanting to relive last nights events. He heard snippets of the conversation such as ‘I better alert Minerva before a student discovers this’ and ‘What will be Voldemort’s next move?’ Harry didn’t know exactly how long he had zoned out for when he felt Severus shake his shoulder.

“Harry?”

“Sorry, what did you say?” Harry replied, utterly bemused.

“Is there anything else you would like to add to the story?” His father asked, looking slightly concerned at his lack of focus and Harry realised Snape was probably worried it was due to his concussion.

Harry hadn’t been paying any attention so he honestly didn’t know the answer to that question but he answered nonetheless. 

“No, I don’t think so” Harry responded, thinking he had successfully gotten away without discussing the matter. Unfortunately he was mistaken.

“Harry, could you describe what happened to Professor Quirrell when you touched him?” Dumbledore pried. 

Harry was horrified. Hadn’t they just been through all of this? He sighed but answered the Headmaster’s question.

“Well, when I touched him, he just started to burn and he crumbled to pieces…right before my eyes, Sir.” Harry said, swallowing hard.

“I see.”

“What’s wrong with me, Sir?” Harry asked worriedly.

“Nothing is wrong with you, Harry. You see, when your mother sacrificed herself to save her only son, she managed to perform some of the most powerful magic in the world.” Dumbledore explained.

“What was it, Sir?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“Love.” Dumbledore said softly.“When Voldemort tried to kill you, Harry, the curse rebounded due to your mothers protection, killing Voldemort himself. Your mothers actions placed you under a strong, magical protection. Therefore, Voldemort himself cannot lay a finger on you.”

Was this man serious? Harry knew love was supposedly powerful, but surely it couldn’t reach those lengths.

“But, Professor, it wasn’t Voldemort who touched me. It was Professor Quirrell.” Harry argued.

“Yes, Harry, but he was being controlled by Lord Voldemort, was he not?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Well there you have it. You did not intentionally kill anyone, Harry. In all honesty, I am not sure that Professor Quirrell would have survived even if Voldemort had left his body, considering how long he was being controlled.” Dumbledore added sympathetically. 

Harry still felt incredibly guilty and so he just nodded solemnly and stared at his hand as if they were fascinating. A few minutes passed in silence until Dumbledore spoke up again.

“Is there anything you would like to ask me, Harry”

Harry shook his head in negation whilst still intently staring at his hands.

“Very well, I think it is best that you go and get some rest after last nights ordeal.”

Harry silently stood up to leave and was waiting beside the fireplace when Dumbledore pulled Snape over to him, whispering something in his ear. His father looked slightly frustrated and nodded curtly before approaching Harry. He was curious as to what had been said between the pair but he couldn’t care less at this point, he was too fed up to care.

————————————————————————————————————————

Both Harry and his father flooed back to Snape’s quarters, Harry actually managing to exit the hearth without tripping this time. However, instead of addressing his father, Harry just stormed off to his room, firmly closing the door behind him. He felt bad about shutting his dad out but he just needed some time alone. Harry walked over and slumped on his bed in downright dismay, attempting to collect his jumbled thoughts. If what Dumbledore had said was true, then he could not be fatally harmed by Voldemort. It was obvious, though,  that he hadn’t killed Voldemort, as his soul had passed through him just before he blacked out. Because of that, Harry couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for him. Did this mean that he was expected to defeat Voldemort, seeing as he cannot be harmed by him, unlike all others? Trying to make sense of these ideas was giving him a headache, and so Harry curled up on the bed, resting his eyes before unconsciously drifting off to sleep.

Harry awoke and, glancing over at the clock, he saw that it was two in the afternoon. He had slept for hours, and he was glad that his father had been respectful and hadn’t come to badger him. Yet, Harry realised that he must have popped his head in to check on him, seeing as there was now a glass of water and a stack of biscuits on his bedside table. Ignoring the plate of biscuits, Harry made a pit stop in the bathroom before heading out into the narrow hallway and though to the living room. His father wasn’t there and so he made his way into the kitchen. Severus was nowhere to be seen. Starting to panic, Harry called out into the emptiness.

“Dad?”

No response.

“Dad?!”

Again, nothing.

Trying not to get too agitated, Harry went back into his room and perched on the edge of his bed, telling himself that he was probably just out telling off a student for running in the corridors or something. Despite his hunger, Harry was far too nervous to eat at the moment and instead took a few small sips of water. Harry walked around his room aimlessly, not sure where to put himself, when he looked up to see the large built in cupboard where all of his robes were now hanging. That gave him an idea. Grabbing a book on carnivorous plants from the bookshelf and his wand, he hoisted himself up into the spacious cupboard. Adjusting himself against the wall and making himself comfortable, Harry lit his wand and began perusing the Herbology text. Despite always hating being locked in his cupboard at Privet Drive, it also gave him comfort when he felt vulnerable. The fact that he was able to close the door and ensconce himself in his own space made him feel protected. His Uncle couldn’t harm him when he was locked in the cupboard.

A little while passed before he heard footsteps approaching his bedroom door. Instinctively Harry curled up, bringing his knees up to his chest and listening to the potential intruder. He heard his bedroom door creak slightly as the person walked in.

“Harry?” He heard the person utter, their voice barely above a whisper.

Footsteps echoed against the hardwood floor as the person walked into the room. Temporarily forgetting where he was, Harry’s breath hitched as he felt the person approaching. Keeping his head down, Harry prayed that Vernon wouldn’t snatch him out of the cupboard. Remaining quiet, Harry attempted to make his breathing as quiet as possible.

“Harry? Harry?!” He heard the man shout, and Harry felt stupid. It was only Severus and relief washed over him.

Still feeling completely rooted to the spot, Harry swiftly kicked the door open to announce where he was without having to move. He began to tremble slightly when he heard the footsteps thundering towards him and he braced himself for his wrath of anger. Snape’s face appeared in the doorway, seething and glaring fixedly at Harry. Then, his father’s face instantly transformed from annoyance to concern as he studied Harry uncertainly.

“Harry, what’s wrong? What in Merlin’s name are you doing in the cupboard?” His father asked him, seemingly confused. 

“I woke up at two and tried to find you. You weren’t here.” Harry stated flatly. 

“Yes, I’m sorry about that. I had to go to see to one of my Slytherin students briefly when I was accosted by a rather distraught looking Mr Malfoy.”

Harry’s head shot up in concern. “What? Is he alright?”

“Yes, Harry, he’s fine. He was concerned about you, seeing as he still hadn’t seen you.” His father reassured him.

Harry was perplexed at how much Draco cared about him. He had never had a friend look out for him like that before. He hadn’t had any friends at all until he came to Hogwarts.

“Oh. That’s okay then. What did you tell him?” Harry asked, feeling relieved.

“I informed Mr Malfoy that you had been taken ill last night and are currently recovering in the Hospital Wing but that you would be returning to your dormitory this evening.”

Harry nodded in understanding. “I guess we are keeping the incident with Quirrell a secret then?”

“Both Professor Dumbledore and I thought that would be best. We were unsure how the sons and daughters of Death Eaters would react to you defiling the Dark Lord, yet again. Although, I am sure they will be informed by their parents over the summer break anyway.” Snape reasoned.

Harry rolled his eyes at his fathers’ last statement and just remained huddled in the corner of the cupboard.

“However.” his father continued. “You have not answered my question as to why you are currently curled up in your clothes closet.”

“Like I said, I got up and you weren’t here. I panicked.” Harry explained.

“And you decided to hide away in the cupboard?” His father asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Look, I know it’s stupid! I know I’m a freak! I just feel safe in a cupboard, it’s all I have ever been used to!” Harry spat with anger he didn’t even know he felt as he pushed away frustrated tears.

“Harry, what did we say about calling yourself a freak?” Snape asked, looking exasperated.

“But I am! Look at me!” Harry said pointing at himself. “I am utterly pathetic! You leave for half an hour and I get in a right state and hide in the stupid cupboard!” Harry expressed angrily, kicking the wall in frustration.

“I’m sorry I frightened you, Harry. I should have left a note before I left, I hadn’t expected to be so long.” His father said apologetically, but somehow that just made Harry even more furious.

"You shouldn’t have to anyway!” Harry shot back. “I am eleven years old for Christ’s sake, I shouldn’t be acting like such a baby!” He shouted.

“Harry, you are still a child and you have endured horrible situations in your short life. Add to that the fact that you have just found out that you have a father, it is perfectly natural to worry that you will lose me.” 

Harry didn’t like the fact that his father was talking down to him like he was an injured puppy, but he understood what the man was trying to say. Still, he felt extremely childish but he didn’t press the matter. He knew that the more he reiterated his freakishness, the more his father would deny it. 

“I won’t lose you though, will I?” Harry asked hesitantly. 

“No, Harry. You will not.” His father replied with certainty and Harry offered him a small smile of acceptance.

“Come on then, you must be starving, lets get you something to eat.” Snape said, coaxing him out.

Harry shuffled his way to the edge of the cupboard, his legs dangling out over the edge before he hopped down to the floor and followed Severus into the kitchen. 


	31. The Quidditch Cup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Again! Here is another instalment for you all, a little late of course!
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful editor and sister, consultmeforcumberbatch.
> 
> Next week will be the final instalment of this story, but keep your eyes peeled for the next work in this series!
> 
> Onwards my dears!

Harry was slowly making his way along the corridor to his dormitory and, although he was eager to see Draco, he still felt a little uncomfortable being away from his dad after what had happened the previous night. Harry arrived at the snake statue and, after taking a deep breath, he uttered the password and walked confidently into the Slytherin common room.

Surprisingly, Draco was sitting in the common room, perched uncomfortably on the edge of one of the armchairs and rocking his legs restlessly. As he started walking over to his friend, Draco looked up and bustled over to meet him.

“There you are, Harry! Snape said you were taken ill, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine now thanks.” Harry responded with a smile.

“What happened?” Draco questioned, seemingly wanting to know the ins and outs of why he didn’t return to his dormitory last night.

Harry knew the inevitable question was going to come up. After rehearsing so many excuses in his head, he finally settled on the most convincing one.

“Well…” Harry started. “…I had a pounding headache all day and then when I was walking back from detention everything went black. The next thing I remember I was waking up in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey said that I was dehydrated and so I passed out. Managed to hit my head against the wall on my way down too.” Harry explained, gesturing to the back of his head.

“Blimey, that was an interesting detention!” Draco said sarcastically and Harry laughed half-heartedly in response.

“Snape told me that you weren’t allowed any visitors but I still popped my head into the Hospital Wing before Madam Pomfrey clocked me and ushered me out. I didn’t see you there though, Harry.” Draco deadpanned, staring suspiciously at Harry.

‘Crap’ Harry thought to himself. Draco was on to him. ‘Stay calm Harry, you can do this', he convinced himself.

“Ah, I was in the private cubicle behind the Matron’s office. She wanted to keep a close eye on me because of my concussion.” Harry lied, hoping it would be enough to deceive Draco.

His friend still looked sceptical but he seemed to believe Harry and nodded his head in understanding. A few moments passed in silence before either of them spoke again.

“Up for a game of Exploding Snap?” Draco asked, smiling at him.

“Go on then, but you already know I’ll win!” Harry smirked with mock confidence. 

They both knelt on the floor facing each other, separated by the rich mahogany coffee table as Draco dealt the cards. Surprisingly, Harry had quick reactions and so he beat his friend a few times before Draco gave up and insisted on playing chess because he was better at that. Harry himself wasn’t awful at chess, he understood the rules and everything, yet there was no beating Draco. He was patient and methodical, unlike Harry who would get frustrated when he made a stupid move and would mess up the whole game. After an enjoyable evening playing board games, both he and Draco made their way up to the dormitories for a welcomed rest.

————————————————————————————————————————

The word about Quirrell had spread like wildfire when Harry had entered the Great Hall for breakfast on Monday morning. He tried his best to appear shocked and confused like the rest of the students, yet the guilt he felt still weighed heavily on his shoulders. Immediately losing his appetite, he pushed away his bowl of porridge, feeling that one bite would cause him to projectile vomit all over Teddy who was sitting opposite him. Harry stared off into space, looking around at everyone as they whispered to each other, no doubt discussing theories on their Professor’s disappearance. His eyes then swept over the head table when he noticed his father staring at him, his eyes unwavering. Harry looked at him strangely and his fathers eyes dropped to the bowl of porridge that was sitting untouched in front of him. Knowing that Snape was ordering him to eat, Harry begrudgingly picked up his spoon and dipped it into the milky sludge with a grimace. 

Several weeks passed rather harmoniously as the summer months approached them. Harry was managing to stay on top of his school work and was still checking in with his father weekly. Snape was pleased that his grades in Defence had improved since the ‘dismissal’ of Quirrell. As it was so late in the school year, several Professor’s alternated teaching their classes. They were usually taught by either McGonagall or Snape, yet Professor Dumbledore himself had taught them a few times. The Headmaster always managed to make the lessons fun and Harry secretly wished that he could teach Defence Against the Dark Arts permanently. 

It was the fifteenth of May and time for the final Quidditch match of the season. As expected, Harry was certainly not looking forward to it seeing as he had almost gotten thrown off his broom during the last match. He was heading for the Great Hall for breakfast, despite not having any intention of eating anything. He blatantly ignored the concerned looks from his father when he saw he wasn’t eating, and instead made his way out onto the grounds. After wandering around for a little while, Harry perched on a rock, looking out across the lake, the morning sun reflecting brightly in the waters surface. He then absentmindedly threw small pebbles into the water, thankful for the distraction.

Harry heard footsteps pounding against the ground as Draco came hurtling down the hill towards him.

“There you are, Harry!” He panted. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Marcus wants to see the team on the pitch before the match starts.”

Sighing, Harry stood up and followed Draco to the Quidditch pitch. He was under even more pressure than usual today, if Slytherin were able to win this final match, they would win the Quidditch cup. Harry expected that was why the team had been summoned before the match commenced. 

On their way there, they bumped into Hagrid who was waving at Harry energetically. Draco walked on ahead without stopping to say ‘hello’. He didn’t know why but Draco always seemed to have a problem with Hagrid.

“Alrigh’ Harry? Good luck at the Quidditch match t’day, I’ll be rootin fer yeh!” Hagrid said enthusiastically.

“Thanks Hagrid!” Harry replied smiling up at him. “I didn’t know you were a Slytherin though!”

“Nah, I’m not. I’m a Gryffindor but they av no chance ‘gainst you ‘Arry!”

Harry laughed and wished Hagrid well as he caught up with Draco, he didn’t want to be scolded by Marcus for being late, he could be really uptight when it came to Quidditch. 

As anticipated, Marcus gave them all a lecture at how they needed to try their best to succeed in winning the Quidditch cup. Most of them just looked at Harry and he felt the weight on his shoulders become even heavier. 

The time came for the teams to head out onto the pitch and Harry could already hear the Slytherins cheering and his stomach tied itself into knots. As they walked out, Harry looked up at the stands and saw that they were overflowing, even more than usual. Shortly after searching the stands, he caught sight of Draco and Lucius Malfoy, and he noticed that Snape was sitting next to them. He smiled up and waved at them, Draco waved back excitedly whilst Mr Malfoy turned his nose up as if he was smelling manure. His father on the other hand gave him a small nod and a slight smile.

Both the Slytherin and Ravenclaw players mounted their brooms and, on the sound of the whistle, the match began. As always, Harry flew high enough for him see every inch of the pitch, swerving around in pursuit of the Snitch. Harry knew that Ravenclaws were full of wisdom and that they would have formed some thoughtful tactics. The Ravenclaw Seeker seemed to be stuck to him like glue, following him around every time he moved. Below them the match was getting rough as both teams were desperate to have the honour of bagging the Quidditch cup. 

Ravenclaw were ahead by forty points and Harry’s search for the Snitch became even more desperate. He saw something flicker out of the corner of his eye and Harry glided over until he was a short distance away, the Ravenclaw Seeker close behind him. Not wanting to take any chances, Harry took his lead as an opportunity to zoom off after the Snitch. He was in spitting distance of it when he received a hard shove which knocked him off course. Regaining his balance quickly, Harry sped off after his opponent, catching up to him, gently nudging him out the way as he dived towards the Snitch. He was hurtling towards the ground at breakneck speed but there was no way he was missing his chance. He carried on his pursuit until he was inches from the ground, swiftly yanking his broom up to avoid colliding with the dirt, Harry reached out and firmly grasped the Snitch.

The crowds erupted into deafening cheers as Madam Hooch blew the whistle and announced.

“SLYTHERIN WIN THE QUIDDITCH CUP!”

Harry grinned from ear to ear. He couldn’t believe it, they had won! Relief washed over him and he felt an enormous weight being lifted from his shoulders as he was hoisted into the air by the remainder of the Slytherin team. Many Slytherin students ran onto the pitch as Madam Hooch handed Harry the trophy and he brandished it for all to see before the squad mounted their brooms and completed a victory lap. 

The festivities finally started to die down as everyone started making their way back to the castle. After being congratulated and hugged several times by Hermione, Harry was heading up towards the school when he heard a stern voice behind him.

“Congratulations, Potter,” The voice spat.

Turning around he realised that it was his father, obviously congratulating him inconspicuously. 

“Thank you, Sir.” Harry replied, winking at him.

He wanted to stay and talk to him, yet he knew he wouldn’t be able to without raising suspicion. Instead, Harry carried on back to the castle, deciding that he would pay his father a visit later when it was safer. 

————————————————————————————————————————

When he arrived back to the common room, the lounge was extremely overcrowded. Everyone cheered when Harry walked in and ran over to him, patting him on the back and shaking his hand. He really didn’t relish in this sort of environment and Harry felt incredibly uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he joined in with the festivities for about an hour or so before he was able to slip out and make his way to Snape’s office. Knocking lightly on the door, he heard his father’s usual call to enter. 

Walking in, Harry lingered by the door and waited for his father to look up at him. Snape smiled and warded the door with a wave of his wand and crouched down before he beckoned Harry over. Running over to him excitedly, Harry wanted nothing more than his father to be proud of him. Seeming to know that he was seeking praise, Severus engulfed Harry in his arms and hugged him tightly.

“I’m so proud of you.” His father exclaimed. “Although, you did nearly give me a heart attack when you hurled towards the ground.”

Harry looked up at him and blushed. “Sorry.” He replied smiling. “But I couldn’t let the Ravenclaws win!”

“You are quite right.” Severus smirked. “Anyway, haven’t you got a party to attend?” His father questioned as Harry nuzzled his face into the mans robes.

“Yeah, I stayed for a while…not keen on parties.” Harry muttered.

“Why ever not?” Severus asked, leaning over and trying to see Harry’s hidden face.

“Too many people. Also, the only parties I have ever attended have been Dudley’s and I tended to be the Piñata.” Harry murmured. 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I am not one for parties either. You must get that from me.” His father reasoned, patting Harry on the head affectionately.

Harry stepped back slightly and smiled up at his father. 

“Right well, if you don’t want to return to the party, you are welcome to stay here with me. I will be marking though unfortunately.” Snape offered.

“Marking beats going back into the crowded common room.” Harry declared.

“Hmm” Severus muttered as he shuffled papers around on his desk.

“Is there anything I could do?” Harry asked shyly.

“Well, I have some potion bottles to label if you want something mind-numbingly boring to do?”

“That’s alright, someone has to do it, right?.” Harry stated whilst gathering the supplies needed for his task.

They both worked side by side, chatting animatedly to each other as they focused on their respective tasks, Harry intermittently questioning what certain substances were. Curfew rolled around and with one last hug, Harry slid undetected in to the common room, feeling more at ease than he had felt in a long time.


	32. Testing Skills and Wizard's Sweets

Harry was thankful that several weeks passed by without any major incidents. Apart from the usual school drama and a couple of altercations with Zabini, things were running smoothly. Zabini was still being an absolute prat despite Harry winning the Quidditch Cup for Slytherin.

They were approaching the final weeks of the school year, which unfortunately were accompanied by the end of year exams. Initially, Harry wasn’t concerned about the exams at all, reminding himself that he could only do his best and nothing more. However, Hermione was getting very flustered and agitated over the impending examinations and, after studying with her, some of her nervousness was starting to rub off on Harry himself. They both spent every spare minute of their time studying together in the library. Draco was far from concerned and barely bothered to read his notes, he seemed to be able to pass with flying colours without any effort at all. For Harry, it was the first time that anyone would be interested in his grades and he certainly didn’t want to let his father down by failing miserably. 

The next day, Harry and his classmates had a full day of exams, starting off with Herbology and Transfiguration in the morning before lunch, followed by Potions and History of Magic in the afternoon. Harry was most anxious for his Potions exam, he really wanted to impress Severus by doing well and he didn’t want to disappoint him. 

Harry and Draco were walking nervously to Herbology, wondering what on earth Professor Sprout may have in store for them. As they entered the classroom, Harry was relieved to discover that he had nothing to worry about. Professor Sprout simply asked them to stun several Bouncing Bulbs, plant and tend to them before placing them in one of the greenhouses to bloom. Harry didn’t waste any time messing around as he stunned the bulb nearest to him and began burying it deep into a pot of soil. As he was doing so, he was looking around at his classmates. Most of them were working quietly and concisely, yet it was clear that some of them hadn’t a clue what they were doing. Crabbe and Goyle were staring around aimlessly, looking completely bemused. That pair really couldn’t determine their arse from their elbow. 

When they had finally gotten a grasp on what they were supposed to be doing, they attempted to cast a Knockback Jinx at one of the many bulbs hopping around the greenhouse. However instead, the jinx hit a rather unsuspecting Zabini who, as a result, fell backwards against the greenhouse doors, taking his planted bulbs with him. At that point, Harry decided to transfer his plant pot into the adjoining greenhouse whilst silently chuckling to himself. 

Transfiguration also went rather smoothly for Harry. The class were instructed to demonstrate the ‘Flintifors’ spell to successfully transform a small creature into a matchbox. The concept was simple enough, Harry had more trouble trying to keep the mouse from scurrying off the table than performing the spell correctly.

Thankfully, lunchtime arrived and Harry was looking forward to recuperating before the rest of his exams that afternoon. He consciously avoided Hermione, figuring that he didn’t need to feel any more nervous than he already was. Alternatively he sat with Draco and talked about Quidditch, drinking his pumpkin juice and attempting to eat a packet of salt and vinegar crisps without them making a reappearance. 

————————————————————————————————————————

He was starting to clam up when thee class began to line up outside of Snape’s classroom. He wasn’t even brewing a potion yet, but he was sweating profusely. Luckily Snape didn’t hang around and before he knew it, they were being ushered into the classroom. When they arrived at their assigned workspaces, Harry noticed that there was an empty cauldron for each of the students along with a length of parchment. Curious to know what his father had planned for them, he perched on the edge of his stool and looked up at the Professor expectantly.

“For your exam this afternoon…” Snape began. “…you will all be attempting to brew an acceptable Forgetfulness Potion. I have indeed been generous, providing you all with a basic set of instructions to assist you. You will have ninety minutes to successfully brew the potion and set a vial on my desk. There will be no talking, if I catch anyone conversing they will automatically be given a zero, is that understood?” 

“Yes, Sir.” the class murmured in unison before being told to begin.

Harry immediately turned the piece of parchment over and almost burst out laughing. The supposed ‘instructions’ were so vague that the Professor needn’t have bothered writing them. They read:

_Part 1_

  1. _Add Lethe River Water._
  2. _Heat_
  3. _Add Valerian Sprigs_
  4. _Stir._
  5. _Cast Spell._
  6. _Brew._



_Part 2_

  1. _Add Standard Ingredient to mortar._
  2. _Add Mistletoe Berries._
  3. _Crush_
  4. _Add to cauldron._
  5. _Stir._
  6. _Wave wand to complete potion._



Luckily enough for Harry, he didn’t need the instructions. He and Hermione had been sure to memorise every potion that they had made this year, just in case any of them came up. He felt so glad that he did, otherwise Harry would be completely lost seeing as Snape didn’t give them any measurements or advise them how long they should brew the potion for. Harry tried to stay focused and methodical as he brewed his potion and tried not to pay anyone else any attention. Strangely, Harry found it quite relaxing. The silence was welcomed and he enjoyed not having Snape make rude comments at him whilst he worked. 

When Harry was finally pleased with his concoction, he carefully ladled the contents into a vial and approached the Potions Masters desk, gently placing his labeled potion in front of him. Harry inwardly sighed with relief as his father inconspicuously winked at him.

————————————————————————————————————————

Harry was well and truly knackered when the time came for their History of Magic exam. Considering it was one of Harry’s least favourite subjects, he didn’t spend as much time studying the subject compared to the others. Each question on the parchment was an essay question and so Harry’s arm began to ache as he wrote as much information down as he could remember. He knew that marks would be deducted for his essay writing abilities but he just wanted to get as many facts as possible onto the parchment before he forgot them. 

The following day was filled with more even more exams. He had endured Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts that morning which was due to be followed up with Astronomy that evening. Harry felt as though Charms went really well but he wasn’t as confident with his performance in Defence. Luckily Harry had managed to demonstrate all of the required spells, he just lacked confidence in his own ability seeing as he spent two-thirds of the year with a pounding headache every time he entered the classroom.

As he ambled to his Astronomy exam after dinner, Harry was thinking about the time he had spent with his father in the tower when he arrived at Hogwarts over the Christmas break. It was the first time that Harry had ever felt like he belonged. There was someone there to comfort him and that was irreplaceable. Knowing that he was going to be sitting an exam in the very same place felt odd, it almost seemed sacrilegious. 

Overall the exam went well, he seemed to have been able to identify all of the constellations that he was asked to determine and felt fairly confident when he handed his sheet of parchment over to Professor Sinistra.

Both Draco and Harry celebrated the end of their exams by returning to their dormitory and stuffing themselves silly with wizards’ sweets. Growing up with the Dursley’s, Harry had never been allowed anything sweet, but he knew that treats in the Wizarding World were more bizarre than any you would find in the Muggle world. Harry took the opportunity to try everything he could lay his hands on, including Fizzing Whizzbees, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, Sugar Quills, Liquorice Wands and, his favourite, Chocolate Frogs.

After gorging himself on so many sweets, Harry was feeling rather ill and everything he had eaten threatened to make a reappearance. However, as he, Draco and Teddy continued to talk, his nausea passed off and he was able to fall asleep, a wide grin plastered on his face.


	33. The Results Are In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there, everyone! Here is the last instalment of this story. Thank you so much to all of you who have followed and supported my story. I didn't think I would get thirty views, let alone over three-thousand. 
> 
> Don't be too disheartened though as I do plan on adding several more stories to this series and writing some one-shots too! 
> 
> As always, special thanks to my editor in chief, consultmeforcumberbatch.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

The end of term arrived and the castle was buzzing with excitement as everyone would be returning home to their families for the summer. Harry was ecstatic at the prospect of spending six weeks of the summer with his dad. He would have the opportunity to get to know him a lot better and wouldn’t have to return to the abusive Dursley’s.

Harry, along with the rest of the Slytherin students, were making their way to the Great Hall for the end of term feast. Both Harry and Draco inched through the throng of students and took their seats towards the end of the Slytherin table. Harry helped himself to a couple of sausages and some mashed potatoes before fervently tucking in. The students were talking excitedly to each other when the Headmaster rose from his seat and raised his hand to request silence. The students conversations ceased and Professor Dumbledore began to speak.

“Good evening, everyone. I hope you have all had a wonderful year at Hogwarts and have filled those brains of yours with vast amounts of knowledge. It is now time for me to announce the results of the House Cup. In fourth place, with a total of three hundred and fifty two points…Hufflepuff!”

A polite round of applause echoed throughout the hall.

“In third place, with a total of four hundred and twenty six points…Ravenclaw!”

Another round of applause.

“In second place, with a total of four hundred and seventy two points….Gryffindor!”

Draco started eagerly shaking Harry’s shoulder as excitement erupted from the Slytherin table.

“And in first place, with a total of four hundred and eighty two points…Slytherin!”

Cheering flared from the Slytherin students as they all punched their fists in the air with glee. Harry was absolutely elated and swelled with pride as his house celebrated their win. Even Snape was on his feet clapping, which was an achievement in itself. The rest of the students didn’t appear too thrilled with the result, it was no secret that many of those in other houses disliked the Slytherins. The jubilations ceased as Dumbledore, once again, raised his hand for quiet. 

“Congratulations, Slytherin, on your achievement! I hope that you all endeavour to reach your full potential next year. Upon returning to your dormitories, I would like you all to make sure your belongings are packed and that you are ready to board the Hogwarts Express in the morning. All students, apart from O.W.L and N.E.W.T students, should remain seated until they are called to collect your exam results from your Head of House. Thank you everyone and good night!” Dumbledore proclaimed before settling back into his chair.

The older students began to vacate the hall and Harry fidgeted as he waited for his year to be called so he could collect his exam results. Thankfully, as they were first-years, they were called first. Harry hesitantly followed the rest of the Slytherin first-years up to the Head table. Snape handed him a scroll, which was neatly tied with a ribbon, and scowled at him as he made his way out of the Great Hall. As Harry had expected, Draco and Teddy were waiting outside the hall for him, excited to see what grades they had gotten.

“Harry! What did you get? I did pretty well apart from Potions.” Draco said excitedly.

Harry didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t really want to discuss his results with his friends, he wanted to open them with his father.

“I haven’t looked at them yet. I promised my Aunt and Uncle that I would wait until I returned home to open them.” Harry lied smoothly.

“Ah come on, Harry! They won’t know if you peek!” Draco probed.

“Yeah, go on, Harry!” Teddy added.

He didn’t budge and shook his head. “Nah, sorry guys. A promise is a promise.” Harry replied flatly.

His friends looked a little disappointed but he was glad that they dropped the subject. 

“Anyway, I’ll meet you back in the common room, I have a book to return to the library before I leave tomorrow.” Harry explained.

“Alright, see you in a bit then, Harry” Draco responded as he and Teddy made their way back to the dungeons.

————————————————————————————————————————

Harry wasn’t lying when he said that he had a book to return and so he dashed off to the library and handed back the book so that he had enough time to stop by and see his father before curfew. 

A little while had passed since Harry had left the Great Hall and so he expected for Severus to be back in his office by now. Arriving at the Professor’s door, Harry took a deep breath and knocked firmly. When he heard his father command him to enter, he glanced around the deserted corridor before slipping through the door.

As always Snape was sitting at his desk, leaning over several books that were splayed out across the table, hastily scribbling notes down on a piece of parchment. His father was yet to look up and so Harry broke the silence.

“It is the last day of term and you are still marking?!” Harry exclaimed teasingly.

Snape lifted his head and smirked as he continued scratching his quill across the parchment. “I’m not marking, I am creating next years lesson plans.” Snape explained.

“Already?! The school year isn’t even over yet!” Harry proclaimed.

“I am well aware of that, Mr Potter, yet I have quite a lot planned for this summer.” His father added, winking at him. “Anyway, what do you want, Potter?” Snape snapped in his usual teaching manner. 

Harry made his way closer to the mans desk, before leaning over and speaking in a whisper. “I wanted to open my results with you. I haven’t looked at them yet,”

The Potions Master looked at him in a state of shock. Surely his father didn’t find it that strange that he wanted to open his results with him.

“Very well.” His father finally replied, hoisting himself out of his chair and striding over to open the door to his private quarters, impatiently ushering Harry in.

They both sat next to each other on the settee and Harry delved into the pocket of his robes to retrieve his exam results. He spent a little while fiddling with the ribbon that was securing the scroll before offering it to his father, his hands shaking slightly.

“You open it. I’m too nervous.”

“I really think you should open it, Harry. They are your results after all.” Severus encouraged.

“I don’t want you to get angry if I have done badly.” Harry admitted.

His father sighed, placing his hands on his shoulders and turning him around to face him.

“Harry, listen to me. I am not going to get angry if you have performed badly. I highly doubt that you have failed any of your subjects, you are a smart boy. It is only your first year at Hogwarts and your first encounter with the Wizarding World, therefore even if you have received poor results, I will help you improve them. You certainly won’t be punished,  do you understand me?”

Harry nodded and started to unfasten the ribbon secured around the scroll. He felt incredibly nauseous and forced himself to swallow as he carefully unrolled the parchment. At first when Harry’s eyes darted across the scroll, he was confused, none of the grades made any sense and his brow furrowed as he continued to inspect the parchment.

_Harry James Potter.                 Slytherin House.                      First-year._

_Herbology- O_

_Transfiguration- E_

_Potions- O_

_History of Magic- A_

_Charms- O_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts- E_

_Astronomy- O_

Upon taking a closer look, Harry noticed that the letter abbreviations of each grade were listed in the bottom left-hand corner of the page. The fail grades were listed as P, D and T, which stood for Poor, Dreadful and Troll whereas the pass grades were highlighted as O, E and A, Outstanding, Exceeds Expectations and Acceptable. Relief washed over Harry as he realised that he had passed all of his exams and he grinned like the Cheshire Cat as he looked up at his father.

“I passed them all!” Harry exclaimed proudly and Snape smiled back at him.

“Well done, Harry! Come on, put me out of my misery, what did you get for each subject? Of course I know what mark you achieved in Potions.” His father admitted with a wink.

Still grinning widely, Harry read out his grades to his father, who appeared astonished that he had done so well. 

“I am so proud of you, Harry.” His father said, draping his arm across Harry’s shoulders and pulling him to his side.“Even after everything that happened to you this year you still managed to pass with flying colours.”

Harry just remained silent and savoured how comforted and cared for he felt. He was finally allowed to do well and wasn’t being punished for it. 

“Your potion was perfect though, Harry.” Severus continued. “I am overjoyed that you share my love of potions, you even did better than Miss Granger.”

Harry pulled back and stared at his father, wide eyed in shock.“You’re kidding?!” 

“When have I ever been known to joke?” Snape retorted and Harry burst out laughing.

“She is going to kill me, you know.” Harry chuckled.

“Indeed.” Snape said dryly. “I wasn’t surprised that you did well in Charms too.”

“Really, why?”

“Your mother was very gifted at Charms. It was her favourite subject.” Severus added.

Harry gulped and remained silent. He didn’t know a lot about his mum and the fact that Snape had told him something about her had caught him off guard. Feeling suddenly saddened, Harry fell back against his fathers side and whispered.“Why did she have to die, Dad?”

For the first time ever, Severus appeared lost for words and Harry felt his body tense as if he were expecting a fight. Eventually, the man managed to reply.

“Because the good die young, Harry.” Severus said, his voice unusually croaky as he hugged Harry tightly.

The pair stayed where they were for a while, Harry leaning back against his fathers chest whilst the man combed his fingers through his unruly hair. Before long, curfew arrived and Harry reluctantly prised himself off of the sofa and bid his father goodnight before skulking off to bed, his final night spent in the castle for the year.


	34. Home Is Where Your Family Is

The next morning arrived and Harry was up bright and early, entering the Great Hall with a spring in his step as soon as the grand double doors opened. After contentedly helping himself to some toast and marmalade, Harry looked up to see Hermione skipping towards him.

“Good morning, Harry.” She said politely.

“Morning, Hermione. You’re looking cheerful this morning!” Harry grinned.

“Yes, I’m excited to see Mum and Dad. I love Hogwarts but I have missed them so much. I’m sure you have missed your Aunt and Uncle too.” She added as she helped herself to some breakfast.

The statement was innocent enough but it was one that Harry hadn’t expected. He didn’t miss the Dursley’s one bit and was immensely glad to finally be shot of them and although Hermione was his friend, he couldn’t tell her the truth. Not if he wanted to keep him and his father safe.

“Yeah, I have missed them to be honest.” Harry lied through gritted teeth. “It is a long time to be away from home.

Hermione hummed in response before changing the subject. “Anyway, how did you do in your exams?”

“Well…I did tell my Aunt and Uncle that I was going to open them when I arrived home but I couldn’t resist peeking.” Harry said, grinning around the piece of toast he was nibbling. “I passed them all and that is all I could have hoped for, I even managed to get an O in some subjects too! How did you do?”

“That’s great, Harry! Congratulations! I was thrilled, I achieved an O in each subject… except for Potions.” She replied, looking a little put out.

Harry didn’t have the heart to tell her that he had gotten an O in Potions, she would be gutted and so he chose to keep his lips sealed.

“Well, Snape is impossible to please.” Harry smiled, successfully lightening the mood.

After breakfast, Harry made his way back to his dormitory to retrieve his trunk, which he struggled to heave up the steep stone staircase. Luckily Harry was organised and had already made a trip to his fathers quarters to gather the rest of his belongings that he would be taking with him for the summer, wherever they may be going. Harry knew that he wouldn’t be taking the Hogwarts Express with the rest of the students, his dad had informed him that they would be using an alternative method of transport to reach their destination. They had already developed an excuse for Harry’s friends and he had agreed to tell them that his Aunt and Uncle were spending a week with him in Hogsmeade to find out more about the magical world. Harry couldn’t help but snigger at the thought of the Dursley’s coming to Hogsmeade. To say they would be horrified was an understatement.

————————————————————————————————————————

Draco and Harry walked cheerfully beside each other as they followed Hagrid’s lead down to the train station in Hogsmeade, both dragging their wheeled luggage behind them as they went. When they arrived, everyone was boarding, and Draco walked over to the train, dumped his trunk amongst the pile of other students’, before rushing back over to Harry. 

“See you later, Harry.” Draco said before clapping him on the back.

“Bye, Draco. I’ll see you in September. Try and keep me in your father's good books if you can.” Harry said cheekily, winking at his friend.

“I’ll try.” Draco promised, waving enthusiastically as he boarded the train.

As soon as Draco had disappeared he was accosted by Hermione who threw herself into his arms.

“Bye, Harry. Have a great summer!”  

“You too, Hermione!” Harry said, hugging her sheepishly.

“You’ll write to me over the summer, won’t you?” She asked, pulling away, staring at him with puppy dog eyes.

“I would if I knew how. Where the hell am I going to get an owl from? I can’t even send it the Muggle way seeing as I don’t know your address!” Harry replied defensively. 

Hermione rolled her eyes sarcastically.“There are owl post branches at every post office in Britain, Harry. You just have to know where to look.” She replied ominously before running off, leaving Harry utterly confused. 

Harry remained on the platform with Hagrid to wave his friends off as the train departed. It felt awfully strange for him to be standing on the platform rather than sitting on the train with the rest of his classmates. Strangely, the feeling almost made him want to cry. Then, as soon as the train was out of sight, Harry turned around and gave Hagrid a massive hug. 

“Goodbye, Hagrid. I’ll miss you.” 

“Awh, I’ll miss yeh too ‘Arry.” Hagrid replied, patting Harry on the back.

“I realised that I never thanked you for helping me at Christmas either. So, thank you so much.” Harry added in a more serious tone.

“Yeh welcome, ‘Arry. I hope that summin like that never ‘appens to yeh again. Let’s hope you ‘ave a better holiday at summer camp.” Hagrid said, looking down at Harry in pity.

He felt bad that Dumbledore had to lie to Hagrid on his behalf, yet, he knew it was for his dads safety and that made him feel less guilty about it.

“Thanks Hagrid, I’m staying in Hogsmeade with a friend for a few days before camp starts so I better go and meet them now.” Harry said, gently pulling away from the half-giant.

“Are yeh sure yeh don’t want me ter walk yeh over there?” Hagrid offered, looking a little worried.

“Yeah it’s not far, I’ll be fine, Hagrid. Thanks anyway though.”

“S’alright,’Arry. Anytime. Well I best be off, take care of yehself.”

“You too, Hagrid. See you later!” Harry said cheerfully as he lugged his trunk along behind him and walked into Hogsmeade.

He had been given specific, detailed instructions to meet Snape outside of Honeyduke’s sweet shop where he would be waiting for him. The last time Harry had visited Hogsmeade it had been an impromptu visit and the area was shrouded in darkness. Now, as it was daytime in the height of summer, he could really take in his surroundings. The cobbled street was very quaint and the shops were all haphazardly built and appeared to be leaning against each other for support. It was very unorthodox and Harry liked it a lot more than the boring shopping centres and cookie-cutter streets that could be found in the Muggle world. 

He had absolutely no idea where the sweet shop was located, yet his father had assured him that he would see it from a mile away, due to the bright orange sign. Unsurprisingly, Snape was right and Harry spotted it all the way from the opposite end of the street.

As he came closer, he could see his father looking shifty as he waited for him. Harry couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. Severus was wearing an all black ensemble outside of a shop which was emblazoned with bold, psychedelic colours. The man almost looked as though he was part of a lost funeral procession. Harry could see the look of relief on the mans’ face as he approached.

“Alright, Harry, let’s go.” His father said brusquely as he led Harry into a secluded back street.

Snape grabbed the handle of his trunk to stop him from wheeling it behind him and shrunk it down into miniature size so that he could tuck it safely into his robe pocket. Harry stared in awe before gawking around, totally confused at why they appeared to just be standing in a deserted alleyway.

"Right, Harry. We are going to travel home using apparition. Have you ever heard of it?” Snape asked, using his authoritative teaching voice.

“No.” Harry admitted sheepishly.

“Alright, it is quite an odd sensation, a bit like the Floo Powder. Travelling by Apparition almost feels like you are being squeezed through a tube before popping out at the other end. The feeling only lasts a few seconds though.” His father reassured.

“Okay.” Harry said, growing nervous.

“Okay, come over here then.” His father instructed, beckoning Harry towards him. “Now wrap your arms around my waist and hold on tightly. Under absolutely no circumstances are you to let go, alright?” Severus said, glaring down at Harry to ensure that he was listening.

Harry nodded, slightly afraid of what was about to happen and scrunched his eyes shut.

“Ready?” His father questioned.

“Ready.” Harry replied, even though he felt far from ready.

Within a flash, Harry felt as though he was being turned inside out as his body twisted and he felt as though his body no longer belonged to him. The sensation was unsettling but just as he thought he couldn’t bear it any longer, the feeling stopped. His father was holding him tightly in his arms as Harry swayed slightly on the spot.

“Are you alright, Harry?” His father questioned after a few moments. 

Harry nodded, not daring to open his mouth in fear of vomiting all over the mans robes.

“It is normal to feel nauseas, especially the first time. A lot of people vomit.” Snape stated, turning his nose up at the thought.

“I wonder why?” Harry added cheekily as the road stopped spinning around him.

Snape smiled at him and he looked up and down the street.“Come on then.” he said, offering his hand out to Harry.

Harry took his fathers hand and they strolled along the street together. They appeared to be in a rather run down Muggle street. It was very dingy and decrepit and he didn’t ever imagine Severus living in a place as run down as this. As he followed his father, they walked past a street sign labelled ‘Spinner’s End’. It wasn’t as well kept as Privet Drive, however Harry didn’t care where he was, along as he wasn’t in the Dursley’s presence.

After walking a short distance, Snape halted and they stood staring up at a rather ordinary looking mid-terraced house. It appeared rather small and unassuming which was inviting to Harry, he never liked being the centre of attention and so a house that blended in with the rest of the street was reassuring.

“It isn’t the best place to live, I admit.” His father announced, breaking the silence.“It was my parents home before they died and so I have inherited it. I may consider moving now that I actually have a reason to.” He said before glancing down at Harry.

“It’s perfect.” Harry replied simply and his father raised his eyebrow.

“Home is where your family is, right?” Harry asked hesitantly.

“Indeed, it is.” His father replied with a smile, and with that they made their way into the house, excited for the summer they would be spending together.


End file.
